


I’ll Still Be With You In The Daylight

by angelview



Category: Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandonment, Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angelview, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Autumn, Awkward Tension, Babies, Bathing/Washing, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Big Spoon Rey, Breakfast in Bed, Bubble Bath, Cabin Fic, Camping, Child Abandonment, Childhood Trauma, Children, Comfort, Comfort Food, Couch Cuddles, Cozy Cabin, Cuddling & Snuggling, Denial of Feelings, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Dissociation, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Roller Coaster, Enemies to Lovers, Epilogue, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fatherhood, Feral Rey, Flashbacks, Fluff, Food, Forests, Foster Care, Gentle Kissing, HEA, Hair Washing, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Intrusive Thoughts, I’ll Still Be With You In The Daylight, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, Little Spoon Ben Solo, Married Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Married Reylo, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Mention of Minor Character Death, Mention of cancer (minor character), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Misunderstandings, Morning Cuddles, Motherhood, Mutual Pining, Napping, No Sex, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Nothing explicit, One Big Happy Family, Orphan Rey (Star Wars), POV Alternating, Pancakes, Panic Attacks, Parent Ben Solo, Parent Rey (Star Wars), Parenthood, Parents Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Pining, Protective Ben Solo, Protective Rey (Star Wars), Rain, Rey Needs A Hug, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo Baby, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Sharing a Bed, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepy Cuddles, Social Anxiety, Soft Ben Solo, Soft and Cozy, Song: Daylight (Taylor Swift), Spooning, Therapy, Touch-Starved, Trees, Vacation, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Yosemite National Park, ang3lview, attention trigger, cottage, don’t be mean to Rey, mention/implied childhood trauma, romantic, soft rey, they both think the other hates them, this got way angstier than I meant it to whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 59,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25831645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelview/pseuds/angelview
Summary: Ben and Rey have two things in common:1. They can’t stand the other.2. They both are incredibly sleep deprived.That is until they find themselves in the most restful, comfortable, wonderful, deepest sleep they’ve ever had... the only catch?It’s in the other’s embrace.Their weekend-long vacation with their friends in the lush wilderness will be totally fine. Normal.Maybe even restful...Based on @reylo_prompts: https://twitter.com/reylo_prompts/status/1290769480725889024?s=21Curious Cat Prompt: Ben loathes Rey&Rey loathes Ben. Forced to share the backseat on a long drive back from vacation with friends, they fall asleep on eachother. Their friends take pictures&mock. But weirdly for Ben&Rey it's the best sleep they've ever had. Hate sleep/cuddling!?
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Kylo Ren | Ben Solo
Comments: 174
Kudos: 476
Collections: Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mikitiki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikitiki/gifts).



> hey hi hello 
> 
> Dedicated to my fave, both in the Reylo fandom and irl, Miki 
> 
> Thanks for the help and inspiration, friend! 🤍💫🥞

“Of all people, Rose,” Rey hissed as she tossed in a chunky cable knit sweater into her weekend bag.

Rose’s almond eyes narrowed at her and she crossed her arms. “It’s not _my_ fault. Poe is the one who did the inviting, you know.”

Rey’s jaw clenched and tightened. Of course she knew this wasn’t Rose’s fault; in fact, she also knew she had no business being angry at Poe for his inclusive nature and she ought to be happy to be invited herself, but this knowledge did nothing for her angst and dread.

“I know,” she sighed petulantly as she rolled her panties into tight rolls to fit into the bag. “I’m just complaining, I suppose.”

Rose smirked. “What’s new?”

“Hey,” she snapped at her friend. “What do you mean by that, missy?”

She shrugged, smirking. “Anything involving Ben results in complaint with you. Everyone knows it, my dear.”

_If everyone knows it then why is he still invited?_ She thought bitterly.

“Well, that tends to be the reaction someone like _that_ evokes.”

Rey knew Rose might have questioned and teased her further had this been a few months back, but now she probably thought better of it. She knew better than to get into this conversation with Rey because Rey was relentless when it came to Ben Solo; or rather, how much she dislikes Ben Solo and how much he dislikes her.

Rey generally considered herself a reasonable, accommodating sort of person; it was the survivor within her that cultivated such qualities, really. She knew better than to provoke and be easily provoked, and she usually had a substantial level of self control.

But not when it came to Ben Solo.

If he so much as breathed the wrong way, Rey was on him like a cat was on a rat.

And sometimes Ben reminded Rey of a rat; a large, dark, stealthy, cocky, sinister creature with a hidden agenda.

That agenda being the singular goal to drive her absolutely _mad_.

It was like some unnatural, wicked cosmic joke had been played out when she met him a year ago. It was as if he had somehow gained access to her owner’s manual that documented every detail of her design and thus he knew _exactly_ which buttons to push. And he did so with the sole intention of _messing_ with her just because he _could_.

The wicked, smug glint in his eye when he had managed to get a rise out of her was not lost on her; she was well aware that he got some sort of pleasure out of pissing her off, for whatever sick reason.

He was never really cruel or anything toward her; in fact, he usually only spoke when she spoke to him. But when that happened, it always resulted in a back and forth of snide, passive agressive comments. To their mutual friends, their dynamic was akin to banter or friendly feuding. And maybe it was. But not to Rey.

Something about Ben just _pissed her off_. Even _looking_ at him and that angular, defined, masculine, smug face was enough to make her grind and bare her teeth like a wild animal. The way he’d just sit around and barely talk to anyone and just suck up all the life out of the room like some kind of dashing, manly vacuum drove her _crazy_.

And he usually was able to attain this level of fury from her without even saying a _word_. His silence and apathy were the bullets he shot with.

And Rey hated it.

Rey prided herself in her overall friendly, outgoing disposition— another quality she’d cultivated for the sake of survival. She was proud of her ability to strike up a conversation and form a connection with just about anyone; anyone other than Ben Solo, apparently.

From the moment they met, Rey was unspeakably annoyed with his arrogance and indifference.

They met at some cocktail party Poe had; of course it would be Poe to have such a wide range of people at a small, intimate gathering— Poe was even friendlier and even more personable than Rey was, admittedly. She couldn’t fathom how he could be friends with someone like Ben, let alone _close_ friends. She didn’t understand how Ben finagled his way into their circle; he was so unfriendly and aloof, such a stark contrast to everyone else’s collectively fun and lively energy. He hardly ever contributed to the conversation or really participated in any of the things they’d do as a group. If he even bothered to show up, all he’d do was sit around with a disgusted expression, shuffle his limbs like he was bored, and focus those piercing eyes on his phone, a device that looked ridiculously small in his large hands.

And she couldn’t understand how she was the only one so tremendously _bothered_ by him. No one else seemed to have a problem with him. They all seemed to be totally fine with him being around... and he actually seemed relatively fine with them as well. At the very least, he didn’t focus those judging stares at any of them.

Really, it felt like she was the only one Ben seemed to focus all his rude, arrogant attention on.

And if he wasn’t on his phone, he was gawking at Rey with some dumb, pompous, scrutinizing expression. What exactly Ben was thinking or feeling as the lines of his face would gather and his deepset honey eyes would blacken and the cast of his features would darken, Rey didn’t know. What she _did_ know was that she didn’t like it; she didn’t like the idea of him studying her like that, likely looking for some flaw to pass judgement over. He had no business looking at her, forming whatever snide opinions he might be coming up with. So anytime she’d catch him, she’d grit her teeth and hiss quietly: ‘ _what are you looking at?_ ,’ ‘ _keep your eyes to yourself,_ ’ _‘turn around,_ ’ and the like. And he’d fumble a bit, mutter under his breath ‘ _I wasn’t looking at you,_ ’ and eventually refocus his attention to that damn phone of his.

That kind of interaction became routine for them, whenever they found themselves in the other’s company.

The thing that angered her most was that she even bothered to _pay tribute_ to him. That she even bothered to _pay attention_ to him and _care_ what he did or how he acted; it wasn’t like he was interested in anything she or anyone else thought, so it made no sense why he got under her skin the way he did. It was maddening that she continued to allow him to get a _reaction_ from her. She hated knowing _he_ had that power and affect on her.

She hated that she doesn’t know why he does what he does.

And she hated even more that she doesn’t know why she _lets_ him have this hold on her. Even after Rose left and told her to meet them at their usual coffee shop 5 AM so they could all grab something and walk over to the train station to catch the Amtrak, she kept thinking about all of it. How much she _loathed_ Ben and how miserable her circumstances were. And how desperate for a vacation she must be if she’s willing to go on one with him being there for a whole weekend.

Vacations are for relaxing, and that was something she desperately needed. She and tranquility were not friends; she hardly ever slept and when she did sleep, it was shallow and uncomfortable. She was absolutely worn out and needed to rest, and so the idea of visiting the lush, peaceful mountains of Yosemite sounded perfect.

But if she was already losing sleep over this whole Ben situation before the trip even started, she wasn’t sure how she’d survive the weekend.

And just as her eyes went dry from being open and her head throbbed and bones ached from the constant unrest she subjected her body to on the daily, Passion Pit’s ‘Sleepyhead’ blared through her phone’s speaker.

It was her alarm.

Time to get up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben find themselves in quite a compromising yet cozy position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Bella for beta reading!!

Even the extra large cinnamon latte Rey purchased that morning wasn’t enough to put even an _ounce_ of spring in her step. She was just so freaking tired; it was just as well that she be up and about, though, since it wasn’t like she’d be sleeping comfortably anyway.

Sometimes to Rey it felt like she had all the pieces of herself collected by but they just didn’t _fit_ together; she didn’t know how to connect them in a way that made sense.

For example, she typically saw herself as a happy, cheerful sort of person; an optimist, even. But at the same time, there was a gnawing inner restlessness that ate at her. A chaotic, turbulent wave of anxiety and fret that drowned her at all hours— hours of wake, hours of slumber, it was all the same.

It was a paradox, to feel consumed by the extremes that coexisted inside her. It was a juxtaposition of what she _wanted_ to be— happy, alive— and what she _really_ was— tired, jaded.

Rey didn’t like allowing her mind to veer off into this line of thinking, which tended to happen whenever she wasn’t filling her thoughts with something else, something more positive. It was easier to harness her concentration on something else that her than be left alone with her thoughts.

She sighed out a flat chuckle. She recalled the saying, ‘the devil finds work for idle hands.’ She supposed that phrase had merit.

_A vacant mind is an open door for intrusive thoughts._

_Perhaps that’s why sleep is not my friend._

Generally anything would be a welcomed distraction from her musings, but as the bells chimed once the cafe’s door opened, the fleeting anticipation of having a friend to talk to was gone.

Ben, objectively, was a good-looking person; Rey had to acknowledge this as fact from the moment she laid eyes on him. And in some ways, his profoundly handsome looks were only fuel added to the fire he ignited inside her. However, as he trudged through the cafe to the counter, she couldn’t help but notice he looked just as messy as she did.

The circles under his eyes were a tad puffy and purplish, making his eyes appear even darker than usual; the lines around them were crinkled and hard, as if he’d just gotten out of bed. His lips were also swollen but paler than usual, along with his complexion; his face was covered in dark stubble. Most notably, his hair was disheveled. Usually Ben had that effortlessly cool, tousled, alluring thing going on with his hair, but this morning it was all tousle; certain tufts of raven hair stuck up while others fell flat, all of it tangled and matted.

He must not have realized she was there because when he saw her, his crinkled eyes widened and his lips parted, the surprise adding some much-needed color to his face. He fumbled as if he were thinking of something to say, but the barista pulled his attention back by asking what he wanted to order.

Even though Ben looked like he just crawled out of his coffin like some sort of mountainous vampire... it wasn’t entirely _unattractive_ , Rey decided before dismissing that thought entirely.

_Ben is a snob and snobs don’t deserve to be hot,_ she chided herself as she curled her arms around her torso and looked away with an eye roll.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ben run his fingers through his hair like a madman, probably trying to smooth it out a bit. She thought he might also be chancing glances at her as she’d try to look over... not that she was looking at him, though. She was... she was simply looking at where he was _standing_ , is all.

She expected him to take his cup of coffee and sit on the opposite side of the room or even go outside and wait in his fancy car that probably has heated seats, but instead he chose to sit at the table right next to hers, across from her against the wall.

Because of course he did.

He was still messing with his hair, avoiding her eyes as if he hadn’t just planted himself right in front of her.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

She blushed, not expecting his voice to sound so hoarse and deep.

And she definitely wasn’t expecting it to be so attractive either.

_Damn you,_ she cursed herself.

It wasn’t until he moved his ruffled bangs from his eyes and looked at her directly did she realize she hadn’t responded.

She cleared her throat and moved a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Good morning.”

He gave her a nod and sipped his coffee. “What time’d you get here?”

“Um, maybe like 15 minutes ago. You?”

She felt dumb, asking that since he clearly just arrived.

He must’ve thought so too, given the incredulous look he shot her. “Just now.”

“Ah. Didn’t notice,” she lied.

He made a wry, still face and looked her up and down. “Yeah, cause you look like you’ve been really busy, sitting here doing nothing and all.”

Her lips pursed and brows knitted as she crossed her arms. “As opposed to what, Ben? Should I have been just staring at the door in hopes you’d come swaying in? Cause you’re _really_ the very first person I want to see this early in the morning. Or in general, for that matter.”

His impassive expression broke for a second, his lips quirking into a small frown, but quickly turned back into a smirk and he narrowed his shoulders. His elbows rested on his knees covered by gray joggers as he leaned in close— close enough for Rey to see that there were a couple stray little sleepies at the corner of his eyes, as well as see his pupils blow and eyes darken. She could even _smell_ the cool mint of his toothpaste, aroma of strong coffee, and vague trace of soap from a shower as he moved in.

“Well if I’m so undesirable to see, maybe you should do what you’re always telling me to do and _turn around_ ,” he murmured darkly.

Rey was speechless at the sudden, unexpected boldness. Ben had never been that close to her before, and his proximity _rattled_ her. She quickly saved face by huffing and scooting back.

He hummed and turned away. She felt her eye twitch when he pulled out his phone and took that as her signal that the ‘pleasantries’ were over.

She did the same, scrolling through just about every app she had on her phone to look busy. She was back on Instagram for the second time in the past five minutes before she felt her line of vision veer off to the side, toward Ben.

She got a glance of his screen all to see he was literally just swiping from the first page of his home screen to the second, not even looking at anything specific.

_He’s literally using his stupid phone as an excuse not to talk to me._

She shuddered at the thought; not so much because it angered her (though it did), but because she even _cared_ whether he talked to her or not.

Perhaps it was simply the challenge that had her crossed; the fact that she couldn’t seem to win Ben over or entice him in any way, making him so different than everyone else. Rey hated how much she needed people to _like_ her, to _see_ her, to _acknowledge_ her; it was this inner hunger for belonging she had never fully managed to satisfy, and Ben’s apathy was a reminder of it. And for that she resented him.

“Can... um,” he began, peaking at her as he hunched over in his seat. “Can you, uh, watch my coffee for me, please? I’m going to go to the restroom and freshen up.”

She feigned a tightlipped smile and gave a curt nod, as if they hadn’t been up in each other’s face moments ago. “That’s fine.”

“Thanks,” he said as he reached into his duffel bag. What he pulled out made Rey roll her eyes.

It was a clear travel bag that had several mini products in it. Hairspray, hair gel, a Jack Black lip balm, two different combs, a mini YSL cologne, aftershave, a razor, and a Clinique Anti-Fatigue Cooling Eye Gel.

_He’s so vain_ , she scowled as he sauntered off to the restroom. She thought of the things she brought as far as self care, aside from the bare essentials: face wash, a disposable razor, a nearly empty bottle of essential oil, and a small jar of a face mask Kaydel gifted her a week or so ago. It was from overly fragrant store at the mall; she thinks the store’s called Lush, and so that’s probably the fanciest thing she brought.

She knew she was reaching at that point; it wasn’t really a big deal if Ben had fancy products or took care of himself. In fact, if it were any other person she probably wouldn’t even notice or compare. But to her, this piece of information just fed into her preconceived notion and characterization of Ben: entitled, arrogant, vain, and bratty. He was so bothered that he was caught not looking his best for once while Rey was used to looking tired and messy every day, which only emphasized how _opposite_ they were.

Though, as much as she hated admitting it, when he came out he did look magnetic. His waves cascaded over each other without looking too heavily styled or gelled and his skin looked clean and bright, freshly shaved. His lips looked rosy and soft like they always did. He smelled spicy and warm, just like he always did.

There was still a lingering tiredness under his eyes, but it wasn’t as visible. It was definitely there, though.

It was odd; she knew, objectively, Ben looked better now than he did a few minutes ago. But there was a certain appeal in his scruffy, natural, bedroom face. It felt like she saw something in Ben she hadn’t seen before: something she could relate to, though she didn’t know what exactly it was.

_He looks vibrant like the sunset now, but before he was warm like the sunrise._

She winced and admonished herself to quit it with the poetics; she must be truly exhausted to be thinking of him in such detail, she decided.

_Just stay out of his way this weekend and he’ll stay out of my way._

_Just do that and everything will be just fine._

_He is not gonna ruin this for me._

* * *

Their friends show up soon after. First Rose and Armitage, then Kaydel, then Jannah, Finn and Mitaka, and last was Poe.

Poe was late for everything; he constantly joked that he was born a week past his due date and would likely be late to his own funeral. He was the most turbulent of the group and yet he was constantly planning things and sort of letting it all be organized among everyone else, taking the backseat of his own plans after initiating them. That’s just how he was, so in some ways maybe it made sense he had such an unorganized, random selection of friends.

Rey was most similar to Rose and Finn; Finn was also from in the UK, as was Armitage. Armitage was a bit more reserved though, in contrast to Finn and Rose’s lively, extraverted, easygoing dispositions.

Armitage was quiet, but in a pleasant way. He was agreeable and calm, but not uptight or arrogant, unlike _some_ people in the group.

Jannah was quiet but she wasn’t shy. She spoke her mind and had a practical, logical approach to most things, which Rey found to be a welcomed addition to the dynamic.

Kaydel was also bold and blunt, but she had a certain wild charisma that commanded attention. She was just as friendly and sociable as Poe, if not slightly more so. She was the epitome of someone who could get any party started, which made her a fun splash of energy within the group.

And Mitaka... well, Mitaka was sort of the wildcard in the deck. He had a mousy quality about him, but every now and then he’d do something _different_ , if not eccentric. Rey’s pretty sure he worked an IT job of some kind, which suited his somewhat dull presence. But when he was given his two-week long vacation a few months back, he decided to dye his hair neon pink for the time he had off; he did it just because he _felt_ like it, apparently. And then when the final week was over, his hair was back to black the following Monday.

Everyone secretly believed it was a wig he used to hide his actual hair until the pink washed out of it.

There was also a rumor among the group that he had a secret Sailor Moon tattoo; Poe said he’d seen it but refused to say where.

They all decided it was best to leave some questions unanswered.

Everyone looked somewhat coordinated for once. They were all either wearing dark wash jeans or a form of lounge pants tucked into boots or thick trainers, along with chunky knit pullovers or sweatshirts and scarfs. She could see the cloud of breath float in the morning air as everyone spoke, the chill of the Bay Area creating the vapor.

Rey grimaced as she recalled the weather report. It was mid-November and Yosemite was going to be in the low 40s with partial showers; it wasn’t too far off from the weather in San Fransisco, but something about staying in the mountains in a large cabin was somewhat daunting. Rey was a lover of warmth and sun, but the majestic images of gold and amber leafs among the crisp mountains, lush rivers, and shapely canyons was too lovely to go without. She would gladly brave the cold and rain for such a sight.

The hiss of their train arriving to the station jarred Rey from her thoughts, quickly getting to her feet to follow everyone. Rose had started calling back to her as she walked a few feet ahead, telling her it was time to board. Everyone pulled out their phones for their tickets to be scanned, reminding Rey to stop so she could fumble her phone out from her deep pocket.

She felt Ben’s gaze on her, stopping just ahead of her as she rushed to move along; she could feel him watching her struggle to catch up, his judging eyes resting on the sight.

_He is literally just standing there, wasting his time just to watch me suffer,_ she grumbled to herself as she began walking, stepping past him as he stood in place. He followed as she went, each getting their ticket scanned and shuffling into the car.

There was a set of empty seats that faced Rose and Armitage so Rey sprinted to take it. Rose and Armitage sat next to each other as Jannah and Kaydel sat in the section besides them, facing Poe and Finn. Mitaka was still standing in the middle as everyone settled in, looking around to sit.

He moved in the direction of Rey’s seat.

She didn’t exactly _love_ the idea of having to sit next to Mitaka for the whole 10 hour journey, but it wasn’t the worst. He’d either stay quiet or have some extraordinary, funny story to tell, which was fine by her.

But before Mitaka could sit, another person took the seat.

Ben.

He didn’t look up from his phone as his solid frame slid next to hers, making the spacious gap between their seats feel tremendously smaller. Since he wasn’t looking at her, he couldn’t see the astonished scowl on her face.

_Why the bloody hell would he sit here of all places?_

Before she could say anything, perhaps telling him she had planned to sit with Mitaka, Mitaka went and sat across from an elderly couple a few sections ahead. Rey considered just getting up and joining him there but his seat faced the opposite direction the train would move in and she knew she’d get nauseous.

_As if sitting next to freaking Ben Solo is less nauseating._

He must have felt the heat in her glare and vibrations from her annoyance because as she fumed, he waved one of his massive paws in front of her face to get her attention.

“What?” She snapped.

He chuckled. “Are you going to have a problem with this arrangement, _Rey_?”

She knew he was trying to be provocative, in the typical way he was when he tried to get a rise out of her. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard him even say her name before this, and the way it sounded coming from his mouth was... unsettling. There was emphasis on each letter and his voice became almost _husky_ as he said it.

_He sat here on purpose,_ she decided.

_And I’m not going to give him the satisfaction he’s looking for._

She smiled tightly and narrowed her eyes smugly as she popped in an earbud to one of her ears. “Nope! Are you, _Benjamin_?”

He mirrored her expression and tilted his head. Something wicked sparkled in his eyes which had darkened as they did earlier. He leaned in slightly closer and smirked. “Nope.”

He popped in an earbud just as she had and held her eyes for a long moment.

She could practically see the teasing, amused expressions on Rose and Armitage’s faces as they watched the interaction. Not wanting to give them the satisfaction either, she leaned closer to him until their faces were inches apart like earlier.

“Good.”

His face tightened into a fake, exaggerated smile. “ _Good_.”

And with that, they broke apart and angled their torsos opposite of the other; she looked out the window next to her and she assumed Ben was probably looking at the window of the section next to them.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

**Rose:** Wtf lol y’all look mighty cozy over there... I bet you’re loving it.

She looked up at her ‘friend,’ irritated by the catlike grin on her face.

She squinted at her and shook her head, returning to her phone.

**Rey:** Bet.

She heard Rose giggle quietly and then got a reply.

**Rose:** He sure looks like he’s loving it...

Rey turned and glanced quickly at Ben. He still was hunched over and had his chin resting on his fist, arm propped up on the armrest as he fiddled with his phone like he always did.

**Rey:** He’s just trying to aggravate me. But the jokes on him cause now he’s stuck sitting with me the whole time.

**Rose:** I’m not sure if that’s where he’s getting his kicks from but whatever you say, my dear.

Rey rolled her eyes. Rose just liked to stir the pot sometimes, clearly. Because there was no way on earth she and Ben would ever willingly be with the other for the sake of enjoying the other’s company. It was impossible— they _loathed_ each other.

_Right?_

_Right_ , she silenced any question that arose. He genuinely sat there just so he could ignore her and remind her of his poor manners and malicious attitude. It was literally that simple.

She had both earbuds in but hadn’t actually turned on the music yet, so she scrolled until she found the playlist she made for the trip, trying to decide which song to start on.

She settled for the pop version of ‘Cups’ from the Pitch Perfect soundtrack. She focused her attention to the window, watching the scene change from the gray metropolitan to the subdue, stone-toned hue of the coast as the train sped through the tracks, enjoying the ease of traveling without the stress of the freeway. Rey knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep since she never managed to get comfortable enough in a moving vehicle to nap no matter how tired she felt, but at least the scene of the sea and the cascading mountains would be calming to look at.

As Anna Kendrick hit the chorus, she felt something thick and firm nudge at her side.

Ben was elbowing her, causing her to take an earbud out and raise her brows in acknowledgment.

“You’re _really_ listening to a soundtrack from a kid’s movie?” He smirked, nodding his head toward her phone resting on her lap.

Warmth from rage ran through her body, causing her face to sour entirely. “You’re _really_ already bothering me this early in the trip?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening slightly as his eyes shifted. “I don’t care, I was just asking.”

“Obviously you _do_ care if you’re _bugging_ me by asking,” she shot back.

“I really _don’t_ , actually. Never _have_ , never _will_.”

She rolled her eyes, hating the tug she felt in her chest.

_His opinion is rubbish_ , she reminded herself.

“Just leave me alone, Ben. I’ll stay out of your way and you’ll stay out of my way, and everything will be just _fine_. You can think however bad of me you want, I don’t care. I don’t want to deal with you. I’m serious.”

She plugged her ears again and turned her back to him, scooting closer to the window to the point of it being uncomfortable. He hadn’t turned away and he had a slightly funny look on his face she didn’t recognize before she moved completely, but none of that mattered. She didn’t care if she was physically uncomfortable or if she didn’t wait for his response; she didn’t want to be anywhere _near_ that pompous jerk, let alone let him have the last word.

A few minutes passed as the ocean out her window rolled on. She hoped that if she kept her eyes peeled and centered on it, she would truly give off the impression of indifference.

_Fake it till you make it._

Her phone buzzed again and her brows knitted as she checked the message.

**Unknown number:** I’m sorry

She frowned, confused.

**Rey:** Wait who’s this

**Unknown number:** Ben

Her eyes widened but her expression remained tight. She turned to see him, but he also had turned away from her and was focused on his phone.

She debated whether or not she ought to answer; the logical, wise part of her mind told her she should ignore it, but the impulsive, proud part told her not to let him see her squirm.

**Rey:** How did you get my number?

His replies were immediate.

**Ben:** Poe gave it to me

**Rey:** Why?

**Ben:** I asked for it.

**Rey:** When? Why?

He took a significantly longer amount of time to reply to that one, but eventually she felt the buzz of a new message.

**Ben:** Idk. I don’t remember

**Rey:** lol sure Jan

**Ben:** Who’s Jan?

**Rey:** Nvmmmm you wouldn’t get it.

**Ben:** Well anyway I just wanted to say sorry

**Rey:** For what?

**Ben:** For what I said a few minutes ago

**Rey:** What part of it?

She enjoyed drawing this out, for some petty reason. She wished she could turn over and see if he was fidgeting nervously in his seat, or even if he was glancing over to see what she was doing... but then again, why would she? _It doesn’t matter,_ she reinforced to herself.

**Ben:** Idk

**Ben:** All of it I guess

**Rey:** Why are you texting me when you literally chose to sit right next to me?

**Ben:** Idk. I’m sorry though. I really mean it

_He doesn’t,_ Rey decided.

**Rey:** Whatever.

**Ben:** Is it ok if I save your number?

**Rey:** Idc

**Rey:** Why tho

**Ben:** Idk, just cause I think its a good idea to have everyone’s numbers since we’re all going on this trip. Safety and stuff

**Rey:** Ah.

**Rey:** Yeah like I said, whatever’s clever my guy.

She cringed, regretting the last two words. It was a phrase she used regularly but with Ben, it felt too... friendly? Casual? Amicable? _Intimate_? She didn’t know. Cringey and stupid, at the very least.

He must’ve thought she was stupid as well since he didn’t respond after that.

* * *

Rey floated weightlessly in the air, like a little cloud on a breezy afternoon.

Or maybe she was on the cloud, cocooned in softness as the sunlight shined down on her, warming her skin. It was almost ethereal, to blissfully wander the sky as she stayed safely tucked away from the rest of the world.

She floated softly over the lush, majestic mountain range that were close enough to see in detail but not close enough to hurt her. The valley within them was green, tall oak and sequoia trees towering over the land. The spicy, warm scent of cedar wood and cardamom harmonized with the comforting smell of fresh lavender and bergamot, further wrapping her up in comfort and warmth.

Anytime the cool air would cause her to shiver and stir, it was as if warm arms held her snugly, keeping her safe from the rest of the world.

She had never felt so safe and sound as she did in that moment. It felt like coming home for the first time after being away too long; jumping on a pile of crisp maple leaves on a cool autumn day; the warmth of a fire glowing against her skin; breathing fresh air after the rain; the trickle and burn of honey whiskey warming her insides; the aroma of fresh coffee in the morning; soaking in a hot bath after a bad day; a good hug from someone who _loves_ her; anything and everything Rey could associate with the feeling of pure bliss and comfort.

How she got there, she didn’t know. She wasn’t able to find it in herself to care, though. She could stay like this forever, as the aches of her bones melted away and warmth soothed her back, easing her even further into this rapture. She decided she would stay there as long as she could, burrowing further into the soft sanctuary of security and peace.

But just as she slipped deeper into the amenity and refuge, she was interrupted.

A high-pitched hiss and throttle jarred her, causing her eyes to blare open.

She was still on the train, but it was darker than she remembered it. The cabin was no longer illuminated by the white light of day, but rather the fluorescent lighting of the lightbulbs overhead as it would be during nighttime.

It then occurred to her that the warm, soothing sensation rolling down her back was still taking place, causing her to freeze in confusion.

_Wait a minute._

_I... I was... was I asleep?_

_Was that a dream?_

She stilled, very carefully and very _slowly_ assessing the situation. She started by looking behind her; her back was no longer facing the seat next to her, but rather, was facing her window. One arm was tucked in while the other was draped over... something.

She realized she was slumped over and her head was leaning on... something.

_Oh no._

She squeezed her eyes and held her breath as she opened them.

_Ben_.

He had both arms wrapped around her.

She was _practically_ on his lap.

His head was resting atop her own.

_She_ had fallen asleep on _Ben_.

_He_ had fallen asleep on _her_ as well.

And as he slept, he rubbed tender circles along her back. He held her _tighter_ whenever she stirred. _He_ was what smelled so lovely and felt so warm. _He_ was the source of safety she tucked away into.

She tried to gently shift away as the humiliation of her current position dawned on her. It was only intensified once she realized the corner of her mouth was _wet_ , as was the spot on Ben’s _neck_ she had leaned against.

_Oh my god. I literally drooled on him._

She truly didn’t mean to be harsh as she did it, but that was just too much; she briskly pulled away from him, causing him to wake up and groan at the disruption.

It was only made worse when she looked in front of her and saw Rose and Armitage _cracking up._

She snatched her earbuds out and heard the cackles they fake-tried to conceal by converting their mouths with their hands.

“We’re here, sleepyheads,” Rose cooed nonchalantly.

“Enjoy your little _nap_?” Armitage laughed, eyes shifting between her and Ben.

Her eyes widened; both he and Rose had their cameras pointed at them, a clear indication that they documented the whole thing.

“What time is it?” Ben’s groggy, scruffy voice asked, causing her to blush again.

Her instinct was to be mad at him and tell him off for getting all snuggly with her, but she knew she technically had no right to. She barely remembers when or how she fell asleep. It must have been shortly after they texted, since that was the last thing she really remembered, but she couldn’t be certain.

“It’s 6:30,” Armitage answered.

“Wait, what?” Ben asked, more awake than before.

“Yep. We’re arriving now.”

Both he and Rey looked out their window to see the train platform illuminated by a streetlight among the nightscape.

They had slept for _10 hours_ without waking up once.

“Sorry,” Rey mumbled to him as she collected her bag from under her seat once everyone began to shuffle toward the exit.

She thinks he said it was okay but she’s not sure. She could see Rose’s smug, teasing look out of the corner of her eye as she got out of their section, stepping over Ben’s long legs that had been extended out, but she didn’t react.

She hoped to never have to acknowledge this ever again.

She hardly could acknowledge it to _herself_.

And she especially struggled to acknowledge that it was the absolute _best_ sleep she’d gotten in years— possibly _ever_.

And in _Ben’s_ embrace, of all places.

_Impossible._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmk what you think! Comment, kudos, tweet, etc! Thank you for all the kindness shown so far! 
> 
> Twitter.com/ang3lview


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben learns he and Rey may have more in common than he thought.
> 
> Meanwhile, Rey’s opinion of Ben is just like the weather: changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stunning moodboard by my friend Batsy! Thank you, Batsy!!!

After they got off their train, they took a bus over to the rental car place to pick up the van.

Usually when Rey first wakes up, she doesn’t really have a strong recovery time period; essentially, she rolls out of bed and is out the door within the time it takes to brush her teeth, wash her face, and throw on whatever’s clean. It’s business as usual.

But this time— tonight— she felt groggy and like she was a step behind everything and everyone. It was as if this had been the first time she had truly allowed herself to get comfortable enough in slumber to actually miss it, _crave it_ , once it was gone.

She wasn’t sure if she’d grown to dislike sleep because it was so difficult to achieve, or if it was so difficult to achieve because she didn’t like it.

Her mind feared sleep as if it were the bleak end to meet in solitude; a day’s worth of potential progress wasted. Progress toward what, she didn’t know.

But her body— traitorous flesh it was, longed for the respite. It was like she was driving a car and was nowhere near a gas station, and the car was barely making it on fumes.

She didn’t know what the parallel to fuel would be in this case, though.

_Ben_ , a dark whisper entered her mind.

It was all just so dumb. There was no better word to describe it. She must have been at the brink of her function to have just passed out like that, especially since it lead to canoodling with the enemy.

And by the way Rose and Armitage kept giggling to each other like children, willing that incident out of existence seemed less and less likely. She was in the middle row on one side of the van taking them to their cabin, Rose in the middle, and Armitage next to her. Jannah was driving, Kaydel next to her, and Mitaka next to Kaydel.

Ben was sitting with Poe and Finn in the very back.

Ben, to just credit, seemed to be just as disgusted and embarrassed as she was. He hadn’t met her eyes once since they arrived and he was on his phone and ignoring everything and everyone even more so than usual.

Ben really was a wet rag. She could hardly imagine him having any fun at all on this trip seeing as he always acts like being around everyone was something painful and repulsive to him.

She recalled one specific instance where Ben bore an expression nearly identical to this.

_Their usual group had gone out dancing one night to some new club that opened; she remembers overhearing Ben tell Armitage how the music was bad and too loud, everyone there was obnoxious, how much he didn’t want to be there, etc. She had only hung out with Ben a few times before, each time strengthening her opinion that Ben was a snob, so that really didn’t do much for his standing. The real kicker was when it was just the two of them. All their fiends had paired off (just as they always did), went off on the dance floor, leaving her and Ben alone off to the side._

_“Hey,” she approached him, flashing him her friendliest, brightest smile._

_He looked up from his phone for a second, eyes tightening, and gave her a short nod. “Hey.”_

_Already feeling rejected, she considered just backing off entirely but there was something that seemed so lonely about Ben, something she resonated with. Something about him ignited something in Rey, making her want to go the extra mile to win him over. And she was determined to be successful, as she willed herself to feign confidence one more time as he stood there, clad in all black, narrowing his broad shoulders as if he were trying to seem smaller, avoiding her eyes._

_“Would you care to dance a song?” She asked, trying to sound casual but knowing there was emphasis in her pitch._

_And there was that damn look on his stupid, bloody face: his aquiline nose would pinch, his eyes both arctic and fiery, lips pursed, brows knitted. Just like he was seeing right through you, above you, over you._

_Seeing everything and yet seeing nothing at all._

_“Do I look like the dancing type?” He all but spat._

_Her heart sank a little bit. “Oh, um,” she struggled, “I— I don’t know. Just thought to ask. I mean, you’re clearly the life of the party. You’re a bit of a drag, mate. Why even come if you’re just going to stand there like an oaf?”_

_She didn’t mean for her comment to sound antagonistic, meaning it as a quip to lighten the mood... but in hindsight, maybe she didn’t exactly mind her quip doubling as a small jab either._

_And then came the other expression she’d seen from him a few times before: his lips would quirk, eyes would darken, and jaw tighten. It was as if there had been both a roaring fire and a candlelight dying out inside of him._

_“I’m not the desperate one lowering my standards cause I can’t stand being alone,” he said cooly._

_After that, he walked away. He might’ve left the place entirely, he might’ve gone to the bar. She didn’t look. She was too focused on the dirty, sticky club floor beneath her, focusing on the chipping mint green colored nail polish on her toes. She painted them a month ago, give or take._

_Maybe she’ll repaint them when she goes home._

_Or in the morning, if she’s able to fall asleep._

_None of this mattered; it never did. But it was easier to think of that instead of the way the light inside her died out and her eyes went glossy as Ben’s words dawned on her._

_“Desperate.” “Low standards.” “Can’t stand being alone.”_

_Alone._

So yeah. After that, it was safe to say she hated Ben Solo.

Because he was a reminder of the parts of herself no one would ever be able to love. Including herself.

* * *

The cabin was not at all what Rey was expecting. She had thought it’d be a rustic, old, lived-in pile of logs in the middle of nowhere; and while it was rustic and in a fairly desolate spot, it was anything _but_ some old pile of logs.

She was told it was spacious but that was a weak description once she saw how massive it was. There were 7 huge bedrooms and 3 bathrooms, as well as a grand family room and lavish kitchen. The cabin was gable-style and there was a walkway between one side of the upper level and the other side, creating a deck-type perch atop the stairs with a view of the family room.

The details of the family room were all done in black walnut and oak finish wood, including the log rafters overhead. The family room had an olive green corduroy couch that faced a cobblestone fireplace, as well as numerous accent chairs and a coffee table, all atop an ikat patterned area rug made of rich, warm jewel tones. Art prints covered the walls, in addition to photography of wildlife and chunky, handmade tapestries.

“I think your guys’ room is down the hall, the last one on the right,” Poe told her and Rose as they walked in.

They decided to take their stuff upstairs before dinner started.

The room Rey and Rose ended up taking was absolutely stunning. The bed was a full queen and decorated in a thick white quilt and a black and white southwestern pattern throw blanket, not to mention the numerous fluffy pillows against the oak wall. There were little string lights weaved around the wall the bed was against, as well as above the door.

Artsy black and white prints of buffalo, bears, and sequoia trees hung on the walls, in addition to a gold-framed mirror hanging above a white dresser that doubled as a vanity. And next to the closet, a wide, crystal clear window that overlooked the forest outside.

As they settled in, she glanced over to her friend, who was staring at something on her phone, clearly delighted at whatever it was she was looking at.

“What are you looking at?” Rey groaned, blushing because she already had an idea of what the answer was.

Rose gave her a cheeky, delighted smile and giggled. “Wanna see?”

She groaned again and her face soured. “Not really, but fine,” she whined.

_A small but necessary lie._

Rose scooted at the end of the bed, making room for Rey to sit down next to her. “You can’t delete it,” she warned her as she handed the phone over.

Rey sighed and rolled her eyes, muttering in agreement. As she studied the phone, her face relaxed. A strange feeling welt up in her chest, causing her heart to beat faster.

She was huddled into Ben’s side, her mouth slightly agape as her cheek rested flat against his exposed neck. Her face looked soft and relaxed as she slept with one leg draped over his lap and an arm draped over his torso, hand resting on his shoulder; she clung to him as if she were a koala and he were a eucalyptus tree.

He had both arms wrapped around her, keeping her close. One arm wrapped around her, supporting her lower back and the other peeked out from the other side, the side she rested against him on. His hand was placed along her back, moving up and down from frame to frame as she scrolled. His face was visible as he leaned into her and put his temple atop her head.

He looked peaceful. If she didn’t know better, it almost looked like a faint smile tugged at his lips as he slept. When Ben held her in his arms, he held her as if she were someone he could really _love_.

_Almost._

That was enough to remind Rey of the reality of the situation, and so she quickly handed Rose her phone. “Don’t show anyone, please.”

Rose rolled her eyes and flopped back on the bed. “Okay...,” she whined. “I won’t.”

Rey wasn’t sure if she believed that, but she decided to drop it.

The bed was comfy. There was plenty of room for both her and Rose to sleep comfortably, but Rey was still a bit on edge.

Rey would, in no way, ever vocalize any complaints; how Poe even managed to book such a picturesque place was beyond her, let alone finding a place so affordable she didn’t need to cover any costs beyond transportation and food. However, since there was an odd number in the group, it meant someone would get their own room; Rey thought it should’ve been _her_ , because Poe knew how poor her sleep schedule was and that she’d probably keep a roommate up.

Rey was fairly known for her tumultuous relationship with sleep, so Rose volunteered to be her roommate since they were the closest. Rose promised she wouldn’t be bothered if Rey stayed up throughout the night, stating that she was a heavy sleeper, but that really didn’t console her.

But that wasn’t it. Not really. The problem was _not_ Rose being around if she stayed up all night; the _real_ problem was Rose being around if Rey _did_ , by chance, fall asleep.

Rose knew she struggled to sleep, but she didn’t know about the nightmares. Not the extent of them, anyway.

Rey had nightmares. Chronic, violent, vivid nightmares— no, _night terrors_ — that almost always resulted in rapid squirming and throttling as she sweat through the sheets and woke up screaming and panting.

She chose to avoid having people stay the night at all costs. She didn’t like to even _think_ about these nightmares of hers, let alone have to _acknowledge_ and _talk_ about them because she woke someone up in a panic.

Even with someone she cared about and did trust, like Rose.

She went downstairs and caught Poe before he and Finn went out to run an errand.

“Hey!” She greeted him as she caught his arm.

“Hey! Whatcha think of the place? It’s nice, right?”

“It’s stunning, Poe. Truly. I um... Rose and I got to our room, by the way.”

Poe nodded, studying her expression curiously. “That’s good. You like it?”

She widened her eyes and nodded furiously. “Oh, very much. It’s brilliant. I, um... I just have a quick question.”

“Okay...,” he trailed off.

She took a quick breath. “Who, um... who has their own room out of the group? I was just curious.”

Poe gave her a quizzical glance and shrugged. ”Ben does. Why?”

“Oh! Very nice. Just asking. I’ll see you two in a bit!” She squeaked, stepping back so they could leave.

He gave her one last funny look before he and Finn turned to the door. “Alrighty, then. See you in a bit, I guess?”

She smiled tightly and nodded. “See you.”

As soon as they waved off and left, she ran up the stairs and back to the room, pausing at the doorway to look across the hallway.

Ben was coming out of the room at the opposite side of the house, a room facing her own. He flashed a glance to her before lowering his head and making his way down the stairs. He looked flushed.

_Well this is just wonderful,_ Rey thought bitterly as she shut her door, realizing she would have to ask Ben Solo of all people to show her a little bit of mercy. She knew it would be futile, though.

_He’ll never understand._

* * *

_The Cabin_

* * *

Poe and Finn came back a little while later with arms full of groceries. Everyone stayed back while they went out to the little market at the edge of town to get supplies for the weekend.

Ben was very familiar with the area, having come up here every year since he was a kid for a good part of his life. He knew that there was a little grocery market that seemed to have everything a person could need for a long weekend. He knew all the trails, from beginners level to advance level difficulty. He knew the highs and lows of mariposa county, ins and outs, peaks and valleys.

And he knew this cabin, too. It was like seeing an old friend after years of being apart.

The guys bought basic necessities for the weekend, like milk, eggs, fruits, supplies for sandwiches, snacks, coffee and tea, a few things Ben jotted down for them, stuff like that. No one was up to cook that night though so they just bought some fried chicken and a side of roasted potatoes from the store’s deli.

Ben hated this part. He hated whenever he went out in groups and it was time to settle in, sit down for a meal or what have you. He never knew what to do with himself; he never ceased to feel out of place, always too tall or too big or too quiet or too _weird_. It’s always been that way, and he’s unsure if there’ll be a time when it won’t.

He tries his best though. He really does. But trying and succeeding didn’t always go hand in hand.

_People will make note when you succeed, but now when you try,_ Ben has thus far learned.

And he had, by this point in life, learned to be okay with that fact. He learned he had to simply accept that this was the struggle he had, this boggling equation of socializing, and make do. And for the most part, it’d all worked out for him. He somehow managed to make friends; Poe was so damn friendly and affable, it was impossible not to be his friend. Poe was the sort of person that even if he weren’t your friend, you were his friend. He’d been that way ever since high school, where he and Ben met. And he never left Ben out, even when Ben all but begged for it.

Their other friends— well, mostly Poe’s friends, technically— were nice, too. They didn’t seem to mind that Ben chose to take a backseat when it came to participation; they seemed to view Ben as the one friend in the group that gets sick on rollercoasters and offers to stay back and watch everyone’s things. He was fine with them all being around, and they all seemed fine with him being around.

With the exception of Rey, that is.

Rey drove him crazy; out of his mind, off the wall, deep and devouring insanity. At first, Ben wasn’t sure if it was in a good way or a bad way. It was in the way Rey was always so loud and exuberant, bursting with life an energy felt like the hot summer sun beating down on him, blinding him with its light— her heat, her light. It was like being asleep for hours, seeing nothing but the darkness behind your lids. But then, that radiant, powerful golden light of day trickling into your cold bedroom, warming you better than your favorite blanket.

So yes, Ben was absolutely captivated by her. And he knows, deep down, it is a good thing.

But it wasn’t always. Rey overwhelmed him; she moved him; she made him squirm; she made him uncomfortable. She made him feel like he stood out— like she _noticed_ him.

At first, he didn’t like it. He didn’t like the way she would go out of her way to be near him or talk to him. The way she’d look at him, like he was a puzzle she wanted to put together, made him nervous; it felt like he had something on his face everyone but him could see. Like he were being mocked.

But as time went on, the more he knew of her, saw of her, heard of her, his coldness toward her melted away, like the spring sunshine dismissing the harsh frost of winter. That was how it felt on the inside for Ben. And he wanted her to know it; but then again, trying and succeeding don’t always go hand in hand.

It was one thing to feel warmth for her, but it was another to make her feel it, too. It often felt like his intentions didn’t quite catch up in time with his actions. So instead of saying something kind, something he wanted to say, his automatic response was to be short and snappy.

_Stupid damn temper._

It was just incredibly hard to believe someone like that would go out of their way for him. He had the nasty habit of thinking the worst. His mind was relentless, dead-set on creating havoc at all hours.

Even when he slept, he got no rest.

Once again, Rey was yet another exception to his reality.

She’s a dream among the nightmares.

As she fell asleep on the train ride, he couldn’t help but look at her. Take in her lovely face as sleep took her in. The gloss over her eyelids, the way her tiny little capped nose would pinch and crinkle, her soft little lips pursed and pink. His heart ached for her, even though she was right next to him; especially because she was right next to him. And somehow, seeing her like that was enough to silence the chaos that roared inside of him, the roars and terrors that never gave him respite. For the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe he could loll off too.

And somehow, by some miraculous force, he woke up with her in his arms. She had nestled her face into his neck, little huffs of air coming from her nose as she slept. Her arm hung around his shoulder like she needed to feel him, know he was there and always would be. He thought he was dreaming, because everything about Rey was nothing short of a dream. So he held on to her, too. He scooted her closer, tucking her into him. His nose found the crown of her head, and she smelled like honey and vanilla— something soft and warm, making him feel like he was home.

But then she woke up, horrified when she realized what mistake had been made. Maybe a dream to him was a nightmare to her.

So he chose to sit across from her at dinner. He tried to avoid looking at her just as she did him How he cultivated the courage and nerve to sit next to her earlier, he didn’t know. But across was fine. He could watch, even if he couldn’t have. Because maybe, if he managed to fall asleep that night (though he doubted he would), he could have her again. She would visit him in his dreams and not leave.

Rey and Armitage volunteered to wash the dishes that night. He decided he would bid her a friendly goodnight as he approached, in addition to thanking her for cleaning his plate and cup. He doubted she’d be willing to talk to him very much, let alone talk about what happened earlier, but maybe this was his chance to start things over with her.

That was his intention anyway.

Armitage had been at the sink, washing dishes as Rey dried them across the counter. He tried to think of a way of approaching her without it coming off as something he went out of his way to do, but as soon as he handed his plate to Armitage and thanked him, she caught his eye.

“Hey, um, Ben,” she said softly as she fidgeted the towel in her hand.

“Yes?” He answered, walking up to her.

Her hazel eyes were blown wide and her lips parted as she looked up to him. She seemed nervous, for once.

She looked down. “I heard you have the single room... I was wondering if we could talk about something.”

His cheeks flushed and his own eyes were now blown. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t _that_.

She must’ve seen the panic and fluster in his face as he struggled for both air and words, because she put her palm out in a ‘halt’ motion and her brows knitted.

“Whoa, whoa. That’s— that’s not— I’m _not_ talking about anything like _that_ , buddy.”

He swallowed and his eyes shifted. “Right. Yeah, sure. Right. No worries. I knew that.” He lied.

She gave a sharp nod, not taking her eyes off his. “Right. No, sorry, didn’t mean to... um, to make it sound so weird. But, um. Yeah. I was wondering if we could make a deal of sorts?”

Now his brows knitted and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “A deal? Like what?”

She inhaled sharply, looked down to the floor, and looked back up at him one last time before exhaling. “Is there any way maybe you could room with someone and I take the single room? I know that’s incredibly stark of me to ask and it’s a lofty request, but I really think it’d be better if I had my own space.”

Rey shifted a bit as if she were hiding something, which would be the only way her asking this would make any sense. He made sure she had the absolute nicest room in the house, even nicer than his own. Plus, who would he go with? There was no way he’d room with Rose or any of the other girls. And the guys barely fit in the beds they had, so he knew he would especially be cramped.

Not only that, but he didn’t want to deal with the hassle of his roommate needing to sleep while he paced around the room, unable to fall asleep. Or if he did fall asleep, for that matter.

He crossed his arms. “Why?”

Her mouth gaped like she were trying to say something, but for a long moment she stayed silent.

“I just do. I um... I’m not used to rooming with people, so I thought to ask. It’s a yes or no. Either she fine I guess, I just wanted to see if you’d be willing to.”

He knew, deep down he’d give Rey whatever she wanted. But in this case, he wasn’t sure. If Rey had a valid _reason_ , maybe he’d consider it, but if this is just about her not enjoying shared space, he wouldn’t. He’s sure everyone here would want to have their own rooms, but unlike everyone else, Ben _needed_ his own room. It wasn’t a _want_ — it was a _need_. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, and if he did, all he’d do is toss and turn, groaning and whining as the nightmares set in. He didn’t want anyone around for that; the last thing he needed was them to think he was more of a freak than they already did.

“I... I um, well... sorry, Rey, but I don’t think I can. I, um...,” he tried to think of a way to tell why without actually _saying_ it. “I think the sleeping arrangements are fine as is. I need my own space too, so yeah, no, I’m not comfortable with that.”

Rey’s eyes raced and she continued gaping; her hands that fell at her side clenched into fists, one of them squeezing the towel into a ball. “Ben, just— _Please_?” She forced out through clenched teeth, revealing a trace of desperation in her tone.

He stood firmer. “I really don’t want to.”

Rey’s face soured like a petulant child who didn’t get their way. “Alright. That’s fine.”

She then turned her back to him. He knew he should just walk away and leave things alone, or maybe even try to get to the bottom of what was troubling her, but the glare she shot him before dismissing him like that was outrageous. She was acting like _he_ put _her_ on the spot, not the other way around. In fact, she always acted that way. If he so much as looked at her, she was ready to swat him like a fly. When she woke up and saw him, she was _disgusted_ by him. And what she left him with was no dull ache; he felt like an idiot.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know. I’m sure everyone here would rather have their own room but that doesn’t mean they’re gonna go around and ask someone to uproot and switch around rooms. Especially go up and ask someone they know they can’t stand and who can’t stand _them_. You expect me to go out of my way for you as if you don’t treat me like I’m some kind of monster. It’s so hypocritical. You don’t seem to get that, Rey. You never do.”

It came out harsher than he meant it to. In fact, he didn’t really mean it all. But as always, he jumped on the defense; this time, before even _trying_ to do better. It was silly to even question why Rey despised him so much: he made sure she did by saying these kinds of things.

She slowly turned back to him. Her face had changed; it softened, but not from her anger subsiding. It weakened, weakened by hurt.

Her voice was only slightly above a whisper as she looked him in the eye, strained her jaw, and sneered at him. “You _are_ a monster.”

Ben frowned for a moment before feigning apathy— another go-to. “Yes I am,” he smirked before walking away.

He didn’t want to stick around and see her reaction to him this time. Because he was pretty sure it’d make him feel worse than he already did. Think of what she called him; a monster.

_I really am._

* * *

Ben couldn’t sleep. Not just because he usually struggled to do so, though. No, he was troubled.

He paced back and forth from one end of his room to the other. He couldn’t help but regret the way he left things with Rey. He knew he’d regret it as soon as he said it, but that didn’t stop him apparently.

He also was beginning to wonder whether he should’ve just maneuvered things around to make the trade with Rey. He wasn’t sure how it’d work out, though.

_Maybe Rose could go with Armitage and I could’ve roomed with Mitaka._

That wouldn’t really have been ideal, but maybe he should’ve just done it to keep the peace; not that there really was even peace to start with, though. He knew Rey didn’t like him, but when he saw the way Rey looked at him when she called him a monster made him realize that she truly can’t stand him.

And he really had no one to blame but himself. She really hasn’t done anything to lead him to believe she views him as anything but a nuisance, so why he held onto the hope that she would give him a chance (a chance he knew he didn’t really deserve) was beyond him.

He was insufferable; everyone knew it. Rey especially knew it. And it was naive to think he could somehow create a version of himself she would be endeared to, especially when he had done nothing to even try to.

He flung himself back on his bed and huffed, covering his face with his hands.

_Fine. That’s just fine. If Rey doesn’t like me, then that’s FINE._

_She doesn’t like me, so I don’t like her._

_Her accent is annoying._

_She’s too loud._

_She smiles too much anyway._

An image of her smile came into his mind. _  
_

_God, her smile is breathtaking._

It was 3 in the morning. Ben decided to go downstairs and grab a snack. He usually didn’t like to eat that late into the night, but he needed something to distract himself.

As he walked down the hallway and was about to begin his descent down the stairs, something caught his eye.

_Rey_.

She was curled up in a little ball on the couch; she looked adorable, bundled up in her little green sweatpants and oversized, fuzzy Sherpa sweatshirt; her little toes wiggled. He stepped back into the shadows to watch her without being noticed, feeling a bit like a voyer. But he couldn’t resist an opportunity to see Rey so candidly.

She was scrolling on her phone, would then put it down for a few moments, stare off into space, then sigh and go on her phone again.

Ben wasn’t sure how long he stood there watching her; it could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours. It was long enough to watch her alternate from idle phone scrolling to walking around the family room, pacing similarly to the way he had earlier. She went into the kitchen and came back with a little bag of trail mix, snacking on it until the bag ran out. She sighed into her hands and sprawled out on the couch, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Everything around them was completely silent, so when she hissed something into the air as she squirmed around on the couch, he could vaguely make it out.

“ _I just want to sleep_.”

That caught his attention. _Why couldn’t she sleep?_

She did look tired, he noticed. The bags under her eyes were dark and her frown was protruding. Of course, this did nothing to her beauty, though. She looked beautiful any time, all the time.

She looked beautiful that morning, when he saw that she was already at the cafe. It made him insecure; he looked like hell, thinking he’d arrived early enough to get ready in the restroom before anyone else (namely, Rey) saw him like that. But of course she was the first person to see him that way.

She also looked beautiful when she slept. When she woke up. And even now, as she stirred around restlessly.

He didn’t like seeing her that way, though. He so wanted to go down there and ask her what was keeping her up, why she couldn’t sleep. Maybe this had something to do with why she was so pressed on switching rooms? He wasn’t sure.

He wanted to know, though. He really did. Not for his sake, but hers. Because if Rey needed someone, he wanted to be that someone. Even though he knew he never would be. Especially with the way things had gone down earlier.

As much as he wanted to go down there and scoop her up in his arms, rub her back with his palm and brush his nose along her temples softly as her breathing relaxed and sleep took her, he knew that would never happen again.

If he went down there, she’d tell him to get lost. As she should.

So he did. He went back to his bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him as softly as he could. He tried to close his eyes and relax his mind, but it was all futile.

His sleep was shallow. He didn’t let himself fall in deep enough to lose himself— lose control. Lose the war between mind and matter.

That was how it _had_ to be. How it always _would_ be.

With the exception of earlier. With _Rey._ That was the best sleep he’d ever gotten.

Rey was always the exception, he realized. And deep down, he knew she always would be.

Perhaps even the thought of earlier was enough for him to hold onto for now; maybe that was why he was able to sleep, even if just for a short time.

_I’ll hold onto it as long as I can,_ he thought to himself as sleep took over an hour before he was supposed to get up.

And even if it was shallow, only an hour long, he slept without nightmares.

* * *

_Something’s gotta give._

Rey was on her zillionth yawn for the morning, struggling to keep up with everyone. She managed to get a pinch of sleep after sneaking back into her and Rose’s bed shortly before the alarm went off, which was usually enough sleep to get her through an average day... but on an average day, she wasn’t defying gravity, dragging her feet along a steep trail.

It was most definitely worth it, though. They hadn’t quite reached the peak yet but the hike thus far had been nothing short of breathtaking.

They were set on Mist Trail, which led up to Vernal Fall and Nevada Fall. The hike itself wasn’t too rigorous, but even getting up out of bed and trotting to the kitchen to make a coffee before leaving was exhausting as far as Rey was concerned.

They were surrounded by lush, crisp green, slowly fading into the warm amber and deep oxford hues of autumn. It had been a warm year, so there wasn’t any snowfall yet, but it was supposed to rain that weekend. Thankfully, it was sunny enough to enjoy the hike without letup. There were some full clouds rolling up in the horizon, Rey noticed.

But more than anything it seemed, Rey really took notice of _Ben_.

_Not like that_ , she reprimanded herself.

He seemed to be moving at a relatively slow pace himself, and seemingly was yawning just as often as she was. But more than that, she noticed that Ben... wasn’t a _complete_ and total jerk. At least, not to everyone else.

When Rose made mention her back was beginning to hurt as she hauled her oversized backpack, Ben took it from her without a word and carried it the rest of the way. When Kaydel was too afraid to maneuver over a particularly smooth, slippery rock in the way of the incline, Ben waited behind with her and carefully guided her up. And even when Finn complained that his phone was dying, Ben pulled out a battery bank and phone wire, giving it too Finn without even being asked.

She felt a bit bad about the way things had gone the night before with him. He made a valid point, about her asking him for a favor despite their unsavory dynamic. He seemed genuinely... _hurt_ , for whatever reason.

But she tried not too feel too bad for it either. He probably was just in a mood, she decided. She reminded herself that Ben never seemed to care about her opinion or treatment of him before, let alone how he treated her. So really, it wasn’t like he did much to improve their relationship either.

_If I can even call it that..._

They had stopped once they reached the last fall to take a break and eat their snacks. Rey had been too tired in the morning to remember to pack all her food; she had a simple sandwich, just turkey and bread, and her water bottle but nothing else. She decided not to say anything, though; it shouldn’t be on anyone else that she had forgotten to pack her snacks, even though she was still starving after her sandwich was gone.

As she hunched over to silence the sound of her stomach growls, Poe nudged her.

“Here ya go, dear,” he smiled as he handed her a little brown paper bag.

“For me?” She asked, unsure of what it could contain.

Poe gave her one of his dazzling, clever smiles. “Of course it’s for you! Enjoy!”

She thanked him and turned to open the bag. Inside was another sandwich wrapped up in deli paper, a small bag of trail mix, and a small bag of pomegranate seeds.

She beamed over to Poe, flashing an appreciative smile which was returned with a thumbs-up and wink. She immediately pillaged the bag and its contents, unable to spare another moment of hunger to be graceful.

The sandwich was _amazing_. It was way more dressed up than her own, decked out in turkey _and_ ham, tomato, lettuce, oil and vinegar with herbs, red onion, honey mustard, Swiss cheese, all atop rye bread. It very well was possibly the best sandwich she’d ever had. Not to mention the pomegranate seeds, too. She rarely could afford pomegranate on a regular basis, so it was a real treat as well. As was the trail mix, since she ate all of hers up the night before.

She smiled the whole way back, feeling instantly rejuvenated from the delicious meal she’d been surprised with.

_Ah, food. Poe really does know the way to win a person over._

She felt so grand, she even smiled and nodded to Ben as they happened to walk next to each other. He gave her a quizzical look before turning his eyes down to his feet and brushing his hair with his hands.

“How’d, um...,” he began, almost as if he was unsure he meant to even speak or not. “How’d you sleep?”

Rey pursed her lips. His question— of all things to ask, really— reminded her of why she was crossed with him at the beginning.

“Just fine, Ben. Just fine,” she answered curtly. “And you?”

He’d been staring but when she turned to him after asking, he looked on ahead. “Okay, I guess.”

She smiled tightly. “Good for you.”

He watched her, this time not taking his eyes off her once she turned back to him. He had circles under his eyes, like he did the day before. In fact, Rey began to question whether or not she’d see him without circles before.

He always looked handsome. Handsome and put-together, but as she looked at him and studied his features, she began to think that perhaps she’d always seen him with a lingering tiredness under his eyes.

_Just like me._

His silky raven locks waved with the cool breeze, a few rogue strands falling to the sides of his face, framing it perfectly. His lips were pouty and full, but the line that closed them wasn’t tight and rigid like it usually was. The fall sunlight casted its rays over his eyes, revealing the rich cognac contrasted with flashes of olive green, as well as a few dashes of a warm, fiery ginger hue. She knew he had intense, burning eyes, but as she looked at them now, she was captivated by their focused, deep, smoldering intensity. Ben was looking at her as if he could see what was in her mind, as if he could reach into a hidden part of her that no one else knew existed. Like he could see her when no one else could. Like he knew her. There was meaning in his eyes, like a ray of light shining through the beautiful wildness they contained.

_The details of him are so lovely,_ she realized.

And with that treacherous thought, she quickly turned away as he opened his mouth to speak, and walked ahead of him.

* * *

They made it home before the sun went down. They decided to rest for a bit before they went out to dinner, hitting up a local spot that had a view of the forest.

She and Rose were both sprawled out on their bed, looking at Instagram and showing each other memes when a knock came at their door.

“Come in!” Rose called out, not taking her eyes off her phone.

Poe walked in, smiling as he always did. “Hello, ladies.”

“Hey, Poe,” they both said.

He plopped down on the bed, not caring that he was laying over their feet on his back.

“Comfy?” Rose teased him.

“Very,” he sighed, putting his hands behind his head in a restful position. He turned to Rey.

“Was the food good?”

She nodded gleefully. “Absolutely. The best I’ve had, if I’m being honest. Thank you so much, Poe. Where’d you learn to make such a lovely sandwich?”

Poe smirked, letting out a sharp chuckle. “Me? I didn’t make that.”

Her brows raised as she tossed aside her phone. “You didn’t? Did Finn?”

He shook his head with a laugh. “No. Finn can do just about anything, but cooking is not one of them.”

Rey frowned and propped herself up on her elbows. “Did you buy the sandwich already made like that?”

He shot her an incredulous look. “No. Ben made it. I thought you knew that?”

Rey’s lips parted and her brows knitted. Rose was staring at her wide-eyed and a hand covered her mouth, concealing her laughter.

“Oh, shoot!” She cackled. “Iconic! Now you have to marry him, my dear.”

Rey turned to Rose, face pinched in annoyance. “No, I do not have to marry him. Nor do I have to marry any man, least of all because he supposedly gave me food.”

Rose put her hands out defensively and shrugged. “You’re right, I’m just teasing you.”

“Well, please don’t,” she grumbled as she fell back on the bed and covered her face with her hands.

“Sorry,” Rose replied as she lifted herself from the bead, kicking Poe lightly with her foot. “I’ll be right back, I left my charger in my backpack.”

“How did you not know that, Rey?” Poe asked, now sitting up and sitting criss-cross as the door shut behind Rose.

She huffed, sitting up as well. “How _would_ I know that, Poe? You’re the one who handed me the food!”

Poe still looked at her as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “Did you look at the wrapping on the sandwich?”

She hadn’t.

Poe continued. “Do you still have it?”

She nodded and reached over for her backpack, remembering that she stuffed the trash into the bag since they weren’t near any trash cans during lunch.

She pulled out the crunched up bag and pulled out the wrapper, a tad soiled by the mustard and oil from the sandwich. She smoothed it out and looked at the paper, searching it until something caught her eye.

Among the crinkles and stains, the exterior of it had something written on it, done in black sharpie marker in neat handwriting:

**_‘I’m sorry... again._ **

****

**_— B’_ **

She folded it carefully and put it back in her backpack. She’d probably throw it away later since it was soiled, but tossing it now didn’t... feel right, for some reason.

She smacked Poe’s arm. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For not telling me! Why would you not tell me the sandwich was from B— from someone else?”

Poe pouted his bottom lip and shrugged innocently. “He asked me not to.”

She shook her head, confused. “Why?”

“He just did. Figured it was his business. Didn’t wanna meddle.”

Rey huffed. “Since when?”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Ben... he’s... he’s an odd one, sometimes. But really, Rey, I don’t get why you can’t stand him. He’s really not a bad guy.”

Rey wanted to argue and tell Poe that the bad blood was _mutual_ and that _neither_ of them could stand the other.

But as she considered the look he had given her, this act of generosity, and even how he looked— how he _felt_ , when she was in his arms on the train, she began to wonder whether or not that was really the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi to me on twitter! www.twitter.com/ang3elview
> 
> Say hi to Batsy on twitter! www.twitter.com/bvstila 
> 
> Hope you guys like this! Was originally gonna post an even bigger chapter but thought it’d be easier to navigate like this. Lmk what you think via kudos, comment, tweet, dm, etc!
> 
> Thanks for all the love and support so far! <3 chapter 4 should be out tomorrow :))


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most telling things often come out in late-night conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grab ur autumn scented candles and a soothing drink fellas, it’s after-dark timeee 
> 
> I recommend you listen to:
> 
> The Night We Met by Lord Huron 
> 
> Untouchable by Taylor Swift 
> 
> and Invite Me In by Wild Ones
> 
> Thanks Miranda for beta reading!

Ben decided to sit at the far end of the table for dinner. Rey sat on the same side but the opposite end, so that way he didn’t have to see her.

Or, rather, she didn’t have to see him.

He supposed it was just as well. He wanted to smack his forehead when Rey had walked away earlier. He knew he shouldn’t have written out an apology on a freaking sandwich wrapper, of all things. He hoped she didn’t say anything because she didn’t notice the message and not because she thought it was stupid, but he wouldn’t blame her either way. He thought about catching her alone or maybe even texting her, but neither of those seemed like good options.

Part of him didn’t want her to see it had been from him, either. He didn’t want her to refuse the food because it came from him. He knew she ate all her trail mix the night before so he packed away some extra helpings for her, but when he saw that all she had to eat was a little, bland sandwich, he decided to give her his extra one. And he happened to be carrying a marker in his backpack, so he made the split-second, ‘bold’ choice to write out that message.

He wasn’t sure how much of the situation Poe knew about or noticed, but he seemed to be fine with minding his business when Ben asked him to give Rey the food. But as they sat at dinner, Poe in the middle on the opposite side facing them, he couldn’t help but notice his nearly omniscient eyes scanning between one side— him, and the other— Rey.

_Did she notice my message?_

_Did she say something to Poe about it?_

Ben dismissed those musings, deciding he ought to let it go if he wanted to find some semblance of joy in the weekend.

And he wanted Rey to enjoy it, too. Why else would he have asked Poe to plan all this and invite her?

* * *

He tried to get some sleep; he really did.

But it was a shallow effort. He wouldn’t be asleep if he were at home in his loft, so how he could think that he think he’d be able to fall asleep now was beyond him. Not when all his nerves and senses had been overworked the entire day as he tried to grin and bare being around people he wasn’t necessarily comfortable with.

He liked them, sure. But did he feel at ease around them? Not in the slightest.

Ben was the type of person who mulled over an embarrassing slip five years after it happened, even if no one else bothered to remember it. He stilled himself in front of others, hesitating to speak or go on his own initiative. On the inside, Ben didn’t really view himself as a passive, submissive, vapid follower; but resorting to acting as one on the outside was easier— safer. The less he spoke and the less he did, the less likely he was to embarrass himself or call unwanted attention to himself.

But keeping it all in was exhausting. Sometimes he really did want to join in and be a relevant voice in the conversation, but he knew no one really wanted to hear him. It wasn’t uncommon, growing up, for him to make a comment or even endeavor to make a joke and no one heard him; if they did, they never acknowledged it. So it left him with the conclusion that either he didn’t know how to joke, or he didn’t know how to matter to others.

_Except Rey,_ a smaller, softer voice reminded him.

Rey always heard him when he spoke. Even before, from the very night they met.

_He was sitting outside on the patio. It was late August of the year before. He sat alone, nursing his whiskey while the party buzzed on behind the patio doors he’d turned his back to._

_Always finding himself on the outside, wishing to belong on the inside._

_He was ready to go home. He’d only been there for an hour or two, choosing to arrive as late as he could so he could make an appearance as the crowd dissipated, just as he always did at Poe’s gatherings._

_For August, it was cold. He had on his denim jacket, and the whiskey trickling down his throat warmed his bones, but he could feel it in the air— a chill, one that around you and through you when you find yourself alone at night._

_He was biding his time so he could go in and say goodbye without seeming like he barely made an appearance. He decided to wait seven minutes before going in, marking his targeted departureas 10:30 PM. He had even set an alarm on his phone to signal it. And he kept looking at his phone, telling himself that by doing this he wasn’t just waiting around like a loser; he was occupied, distracted and engaged. Even if it was just the repetitive action of scrolling through pictures of dogs. _

_A few people had come and gone, leaving the party from the patio exit. They’d all go to their cars or Ubers, looking neither here nor there as they made their way; Ben doubted they even knew he was there. Which was fine._

_But one person did notice._

_Rey._

_She was wearing a navy blue shirt that draped down her lithe frame like a dress. Her hair was done in those three little rolls she liked to wear, and she had on a little denim jacket, decked out in fraying tears and mismatched patches._

_Of course, Ben immediately realized she was beautiful. But he didn’t read into that observation too much; even the most simple man could step out into the night and see the stars of the heavens, and their beauty would not be lost on him._

_‘Don’t look at her,’ he reminded himself. ‘You’ll make her uncomfortable.’_

_So he ducked his head down and narrowed his shoulders._

_“Good evening,” he heard the crisp, honeyed voice of the woman say. She had an accent._

_He said nothing; he didn’t look up, either._

_‘She’s not talking to you.’_

_She cleared her throat. “Hi.”_

_He released the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He looked up and was met with wide, golden eyes that sparkled despite the darkness around. She’d been set back in the shadows, away from the patio light but as she came closer, he realized he’d been wrong._

_She was more beautiful than all the stars in the sky._

_It was only when her face soured did he realize she was waiting for him to say something._

_“Hey,” he muttered out, returning to his phone. He wanted to give her an easy way out, now that she was done with her polite formalities._

_But she wasn’t. “How are you?”_

_His brows furrowed. He didn’t know how to respond, despite the most obvious answer being ‘okay.’ So he pursed his lips and bore his eyes into his blank phone screen, as if he were trying to burn a hole through it._

_“Tired.”_

_He wished she’d go away. Or stay forever. He didn’t know. He’d never seen her before, and he had no idea how or why she’d bothered to find herself in his company. When he looked up again, she was looking at him with something akin to starvation. Not in the husky, tantalizing way a seductress might look at a potential lover; no, it was deeper than that. The roundness in her eyes, the speck of light that illuminated them like a gloss, held something else. It was the same hunger that one would see in the eyes of a lost child, watching someone eat something they so desperately wanted but couldn’t have._

_Ben had no idea what he had that she could possibly want._

_“...and you?” He finally added, the stress he felt coming out his strained voice._

_She gave him a grin— the softest, most delicate grin that caused her nose to crinkle and her perfect teeth to peep over her bottom lip._

_‘She’s forcing it.’_

_“I’m okay! A bit tired too, but all is well,” she sighed out._

_Ben turned back to his phone, not to ignore her, but to cancel out his alarm._

_“What’s your name?” She asked him, despite his poor reciprocation._

_“Me?” He asked stupidly._

_She gave him an irritated, incredulous wince. “Yes, you.”_

_“Ben,” he replied too quickly. “My name’s Ben.”_

_She kept staring at him; she was so much smaller than he was, and yet she made him feel minuscule._

_“Hi,” she beamed again, extending her hand out. “My name’s Rey.”_

_When he took her hand, not without hesitation, it was a feeling he could only liken to putting your hands against a roaring fire after spending all night in the frigid cold. Feeling present, alive, even. Coming to life after feeling dead inside for so long._

_And that scared him. He didn’t know this girl at all, and yet she’d managed to move him in such a profound, alarming way._

_She scared him._

_“Rey,” he whispered, so quietly he thought she hadn’t heard him. Why would she?_

_And yet, she did._

_“Pardon me?”_

_Realizing what a creepy thing that was, to murmur some stranger’s name like some kind of breathy stalker, he shook his head and hardened his expression. “I said ‘okay.’” He lied as he returned back to his phone— ever the security blanket._

_“Well, um,” she said slowly, looking down to her feet and rubbing her inner arm with her hand. “I, um. I better be off, then I suppose. Nice meeting you, Ben.”_

_As he inched his head up to see her walk off, he spoke almost to himself._

_“See you.”_

_And somehow, she turned around at that and smiled at him._

_He checked his phone._

_It was10:37 PM._

She’d _always_ heard him. Even now, as he drove her to hate him. To this day, she still listened for his voice; even if she heard his poorly executed joke and responded to him just to tell him how unfunny his joke was... she heard him still. She _noticed_ him. She _acknowledged_ him. There was a part of her that was looking for him, even when he didn’t want to be found. And he just kept hiding, despite realizing how much he’d like to be found.

And maybe it wouldn’t be that way if he just managed to keep it together long enough to be nice to her without fear; say a kind word without there being a tremble in his voice. But he couldn’t. He stayed hidden within himself, and he didn’t let others in. He knew what they would find. And just like him, they wouldn’t like it.

And these thoughts, reminders of everything about himself he so wished he could change but couldn’t, plagued him. They were murky, sinister whispers in his ears that found their way to him when all he had left was himself— which was often.

As he stirred and tossed in his bed, the pale moonlight trickling in through his large picture window, he realized laying around like this wasn’t doing him any good. He decided to go downstairs and try for a snack a second time.

_Rey won’t be there tonight, I’m sure_ , he thought as he made his way down the stairs.

He walked directly to the kitchen, determined to find something to snack on, but then his vision went black. He squeezed his eyes shut and hissed as he collided against something— someone.

He jumped to his feet ready to duke it out with the prowler but it took him only a second to register that the small frame sitting on the ground, groaning as one hand rubbed a shoulder was actually Rey.

Because of course it was.

“Rey?” He spat out, rushing to kneel down and reach for her hand. “God, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

She growled as she took his hand and stood up, running a hand through her hair once she did. “Yeah I’m fine. Goodness, you’re built like a bloody fridge.”

The tips of his ears heated, unsure whether that was a compliment or not.

“Sorry,” he said softly, stepping back to give her space.

“S’fine,” she responded, stretching her arms overhead. “I didn’t see you coming either.”

A long moment passed between them, each looking at the floor they always found to be particularly interesting when in the other’s company.

“Are, um...,” Ben tried, willing himself to keep the sudden adrenaline had been kicked into him from the collision, “are you sure you’re okay?”

He dared to look at her and found that she had already been looking at him. Her lips were parted and her eyes were blown; she looked wild like that, along with the frenzy of soft, messy brown waves framing her face. She was in her PJs, a long-sleeve gray lounge shirt and her green sweatpants. She wasn’t wearing the fuzzy shirt this time.

“Yes,” she said lowly, keeping his eyes for a moment longer before looking down again. “Yeah, no. No, I’m, uh... I’m fine. Really. Erm... thanks, by the way.”

A chuckle came out. “I’m the one who walked into you. No need to thank me.”

“That’s not it.”

His head cocked to the side and he face her a curious look. What could she possibly be thanking him for?

She must’ve picked up on his confusion because she bit her lower lip and curled a strand of hair around her finger. “For earlier. The food. The sandwich. And the trail mix. And pomegranate.”

His heart sank and rose, shifting its place like an eclipse.

She did see it.

He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Oh. Yeah, no. It’s no big.”

She didn’t say anything for a minute, just looking at him.

With that same strange hunger she had the night they met.

If he knew what she wanted, he would move galaxies to give it to her.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

She paused and inhaled, waiting for him to answer his own question. But he didn’t, so she looked away.

“Nevermind.”

As she tried to walk away, emboldened by some unspeakable, magnetic force, he gently reached for her wrist to stop her. Once she turned to him, he retracted.

“Why what, Rey?” He stepped closer, trying his best to be delicate so as not to scare her. “You can say it.”

Something in her eyes called to him. Or maybe responded to what was in his own eyes. There was a heavy air between them, shifting like a jagged wave; anything could happen as the tide set in, bringing in either peace or chaos.

But rather than it taking over him and drowning him out, the wave softened, subsiding enough to become a pool of foam, gentle enough for him to dip his toes in.

“I was just wondering why you.. well, just why. For saying sorry,” she said quietly. “Thank you for that.”

He carded his hand through his hair, forcing himself to look away from her. “Because you didn’t deserve to be talked to like that. Not then, not ever. You don’t need to thank me. I should thank you.”

Now she looked at him in question. “For?”

“For accepting it... I hope.”

She held her torso and nodded. “I did. Do.”

He wanted to keep her there. He wracked his mind, desperate to think of something— anything— he could that would somehow keep her standing there, talking to him while they had this amicability between them.

“Why are you up?”

Both seemed surprised at his sudden question, but she didn’t seem irritated.

“I, uh... I don’t sleep,” she sighed out, almost more surprised by her own words than his question.

He knitted his brows. “What do you mean?”

She continued nibbling at her lip. “I just don’t. I have a chronically terrible sleep schedule... that schedule being, non-existant of course. It’s always been that way, though.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She crinkled her nose at him. “What?”

He sighed. “I don’t really sleep well most days. I’m always kinda running on fumes. Hence all the yawning and the old person disposition.”

Much to his surprise— delight, really— she actually _laughed_.

It was more of a chuckle or snort, but he’ll take what he can get.

“I’m the same way, to be quite honest. One of my coworkers used to work at a rest home and she mentioned that the elderly people would often stay up all night, shuffling about without anywhere in particular in mind. Who knew we’d be so old, so young.”

Now he _laughed_ — harder than he meant to, but he couldn’t help it. This felt like the first opportunity he’d gotten to actually smile _with_ her— not _at_ her, not _around_ her, always from afar, but in the same _moment_ , a moment shared _between_ them. And he didn’t want to lose that.

And he was amazed to see his laughter made her laugh. She smiled brighter, her cheeks puffing out and her eyes squeezing shut.

And, naturally, this only caused him to laugh harder.

Before he even realized what was happening, they both were cracking up. They’d shut the lower half of their faces, trying to silence the hysterics, but it was in vain.

“God, I’m so tired!” She belted out, holding herself as she leaned back against the kitchen wall.

“Me too!” He wheezed, wiping the actual tears that had seeped out of his eyes. He had no idea how they got on this level of amusement from a simple, objectively unfunny joke, but it was as if seeing her like this made him so happy his body had no way of containing the joy he felt.

Of course, it could’ve been a side effect of exhaustion, this sudden burst of delirium, but he knew that wasn’t what this was.

“Ahh,” she cooed, regaining her composure. “That was a hoot.”

He nodded, trying to keep his smile up despite feeling the downward pull. He prepared himself for her to say goodnight and dismiss him, despite how much he wished she wouldn’t. He knew it was only natural that she do, though.

When he chanced a glance her way, she nibbled on her thumb nail and her brows turned in focus, as if she were deeply considering something. He could almost see the wheels turning about in her head as she grappled with her thoughts. He didn’t know if this was a sign that the mood was changed and she regretted sharing a laugh with him, but all he could do was hope that wasn’t the case.

“Say,” she began, taking her hair in hand again. “Would you... would you want to play with those Janga blocks with me?”

He dug his trimmed nails into his palm just to ensure this wasn’t some sort of dream his subconscious had miraculously gifted to him. He felt the wonderful pinch of his jab though— it was all real.

“Yes.”

* * *

He hadn’t played Janga in years, but some things never change.

One being, he was bad at it. He had always blamed his thick digits but knew that it was more likely due to distraction this time around.

The fireplace sparked across from them as Rey and he lied at their sides, opposite of the other.

“You just have got to pick the weak link here, Ben,” she admonished as she nudged at the middle block on the third row, pushing it out in spurts with her pinky finger. “One that won’t cause the whole bloody tower to crumble down.”

“Sorry,” he playfully whined, pinching the bridge of his nose.

She tsked and shook her head. “Stop that.”

He pursed his lips and felt his heart sink slightly. “Sorry... stop what?”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Saying sorry for things. And don’t say sorry for saying sorry!”

“Ugh, well, I’m— okay, yeah, I’ll stop.”

He looked away from her and turned his eyes to the right corner block on the fifth row. “I just have a lot to be sorry for, usually,” he muttered, barely opening his mouth for the words to come out.

She scooted slyly, turning herself closer to him. “Why do you say that?”

_She always hears me._

“I just do. Believe me, I of all people know that I’m a bit of a... as you might say, arse.”

She didn’t say anything at first, giving him hope that she may change the subject. He felt sweat build up on his forehead the longer she stayed silent, causing him to pray he didn’t fill this torturous silence with something stupid.

“Why?”

He looked at her and his lips parted slightly. She wasn’t looking at him the way one does when accusing or confronting. She looked at him as if she had asked him something casual, like why the sky was blue or why he preferred vanilla over chocolate.

“I just...,” he wanted to say ‘I just am’ and end the conversation there, but he knew that she’d see through him. She’d get her answer whether he gave it to her directly or not; Rey was always listening, after all. She could hear things from him that even he couldn’t, he began to think.

He sighed. “I just have... I have some issues, I guess.”

She nodded with understanding, giving him permission to end it there or continue.

For once, he chose to continue.

“I don’t mean to be that way. I just have a hard time... with people and things. I’m... I’m shy.”

_Understatement of a lifetime._

Rey, on her part, looked as if she didn’t fully believe him. “I didn’t get that from you.”

He gave a small shrug with the shoulder he wasn’t resting his weight on. “How could you not? You’ve seen me around everyone. I never talk and I’m always acting awkward.”

She gave a half-smile and looked ahead of them at the fireplace before considering him for a moment. “I always thought you just couldn’t stand people.”

He rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hands before sighing again. “It’s not that I can’t stand people... I just don’t really know how to act. Not saying that’s an excuse for being a jerk, but it just... it comes out that way. Even though I don’t mean for it to.”

Rey watched him and her lips would part as if she were about to speak, but she didn’t. She just nodded.

He so wanted to tell her that his disposition often caused him to act as if he didn’t like people, but that it wasn’t true; that he did like people. That he especially liked her. But he couldn’t bring himself to admit that.

She curled up and sat criss-cross, cracking her neck and yawning. Once again, he prepared for her to dismiss him. But once again, she didn’t.

“Do you want to go outside with me?”

He sat up and smirked. “Now? It’s probably freezing out there.”

She shrugged. “You don’t have to. I could just step out for a minute. I’d come back shortly.”

Even if she just went out on the porch, there was no way he was going to let her go out by herself; least of all when he had been given an invitation to go with her.

“Hang on. Come with me to the kitchen, and then we can go.”

They got up and made their way back to the kitchen. He told her he’d only be a second and encouraged her to sit at the breakfast nook while he worked.

He pulled out some of the specific things he asked Poe and Finn to bring back from the market.

He poured out some of the almond milk into a small copper pot, heating it on the stovetop on low. He then reached for the dried chamomile and added it in, stirring it along with the milk before adding in cinnamon, nutmeg, a dash of brown sugar and honey, and half a sprig of vanilla bean. He let the mixture simmer in the pot, stirring it occasionally until it reached the desired heat.

He then grabbed for two mugs in the overhead pantry and carefully poured the mixture into each mug, then dashing the top with cinnamon.

Rey was wide-eyed and smiling when he handed her the mug. She carefully brought it up to her nose and he watched the steam mist around her face. “Ben, this smells amazing. What is it?”

He smiled. “It’s this recipe my grandma used to make for me. She called it Naboo Milk.”

She gave him a quizzical look. “‘Naboo Milk?’”

He smelled his own drink, the familiar, comforting smell adding to his smile. “Yeah, she grew up in a little village called Naboo. It’s supposed to be a comfort treat. Helps with sleep sometimes too.”

She sipped her drink, closing her eyes in ecstasy. Froth covered the tip of her nose. “Mmm, Ben. This is amazing. Absolutely brilliant.”

“Glad you like it,” he blushed. This time as they smiled at each other, he didn’t look away.

“Wanna go outside now?”

She nodded gleefully, taking her mug with her.

He made sure she had her coat and boots on as they stepped out. They set their mugs aside and stepped out beyond the porch, the air they breathed turning into fog against the pale nightlight. As he thought, it was incredibly cold out.

But the stars may very well have been worth it.

_She_ was worth it; if she wanted the stars, he’d give her the galaxy.

Even if it was just for that night.

She spread her arms out while craning her neck up to look at the glitter overhead. He could see her features made out in the moonlight; she was smiling.

He was confident that everything up there was smiling down on her too.

“Oh, Ben,” she crooned, clasping her hands together against her heart as she looked over to him. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah, you are.”

She’d been looking back up at the sky but then slowly turned her attention back to him.

Ben wasn’t sure if he meant for her to hear him or not, but he began to think maybe he didn’t mind if she had.

But she turned her head, unsure. “Pardon?”

_She hadn’t._

“Yeah, they are... the stars, I mean.”

His mind played a trick on him, making him think for the swiftest second that her face had dropped. He knew he was just seeing things, though.

“Right. Yes. Of course.”

Rey turned around and held her hands together behind her back, continuing to look out into the wolds above. Somehow, he knew she would love this. That this would be something— someplace— special to her.

Maybe because it was special to him.

And then, an idea occurred to him.

“Say,” he started as he tried to casually stride next to her. “Would you... would you wanna see something? I know a place, we’re not too far from it. We can drive there. The view is stellar.”

He was sure he was really pushing it now. Surely she’d think he was already being too clingy and too much, trying to whisk her away into the wilderness in the middle of the night, despite the fact that they don’t even like each other and—

“Yes.”

* * *

He went inside, snatched the rental car keys off the hook, and made an effort to quietly shut the door.

“I texted Poe, told him where we were gonna go. I don’t know if you wanted to text Rose or something? I sorta had it in mind that it be a surprise but I can tell you so you can send her the location and—“

She shook her head from the passengers seat as he put the key in the ignition. “I want it to be a surprise.”

He nodded and began driving.

Tunnel View was only half a mile away from where they were staying. There shouldn’t be anyone else there, given the hour, so they were safe to park and take in the scene ahead of them. He figured they could step out of the car for a minute if Rey wanted to; it was cold and the car was warm so he assumed they’d probably only be there a short time, enough to take a look and then head back. He brought his bear repellent too, though usually the bears lurked deeper in the forests.

“Have you been here before, Ben?” She asked as they drove.

“Yeah, actually. I uh, I actually kinda grew up coming here.”

“You did? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, my parents used to bring me here all the time. Usually for summer break or something. We’d stay out here over break and do all the hikes and stuff.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “Did you help Poe pick out the cabin?”

He nipped his lip for a moment as they pulled up, deciding whether or not he wanted to tell her. He caught her glancing over to him though, causing him to decide that he did.

“It’s my family’s place, actually. Nowadays we rent it out but they let me have it for a weekend.”

Her lips parted. “Seriously? Oh my god, it’s simply lovely. Whoever decorated it has such a keen eye for details and style.”

He chuckled. “That, uh... that would be my mom.”

She went quiet, as if she were carefully dissecting his words. “I’m sorry I asked to take your room. I shouldn’t have asked anyway, but all the more so now that I know it’s technically your house.”

He leaned back in his seat and let out a breath. “Rey, it’s... it’s okay. Like I said, I’m sorry for how I acted. I guess I was... well, I was embarrassed.”

She leaned back in her seat and turned her body toward him, resting her cheek against an extended arm. “Why would you be embarrassed?”

He thought for a moment. “Wanna go outside?”

She nodded and they unbuckled their seatbelts and stepped out. Ben helped her sit atop the hood of the van before scooting in next to her. He mentioned that they should only stay out for a little bit since it was so late and so chilly.

The view was incredible. The valley between the lavender mountain range ahead was a dark contrast to the magnificence it laid under. The sky was a painting, covered in strokes of cobalt and violet— the perfect canvas to amplify the celestial bodies scattered about like glitter in the air. It went on for miles and miles, yet felt close enough to reach.

But Rey wasn’t focusing on the view. She was looking at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I was embarrassed...,” he paused and sighed out. “I was embarrassed because I _need_ my own room. I don’t sleep. I stay up all night and if I’m not awake, I’m, like... I don’t know. I’m freaking out, I guess.”

“Freaking out? In what way?”

He swallowed as he carefully leaned back, ignoring how cold the windshield still felt against his back, despite his layers. “I don’t know if it’s a condition or what the hell my problem is but I just... I don’t know. I have, like, bad dreams, when I do sleep. I’m restless and moving all over the place and I groan and make all these weird sounds and just... I’m not a good roommate.”

“And I don’t like people seeing me like that. They already think I’m a creepy, weird freak and if they knew that I— that I was like that, they’d just be scared of me. I’m already this big silent giant and so if they saw me panic like that when I don’t even realize I’m doing it, they... they— they’d know how _damaged_ I am and I’m just trying so hard to get by and not draw any attention to myself cause I _hate_ the way people look at me, like I’m weird and quiet and awkward and _stupid_. And I know that I’m a huge bastard for being that way and I’m pushing people out but... I _know_ they wouldn’t stick around even if I didn’t.”

“How do you know that, Ben? How do you know they wouldn’t want to stay?” She asked heartbreakingly softly.

Ben _wanted_ to talk about it. He did want her to know. But he felt every nerve ending catch fire and the dull ache in his head thud like a drum. He didn’t want to let her in, but he didn’t want her to leave, either.

“I just— I just know they would,” he decided to say.

He didn’t know why he said all that. The last thing he needed was for Rey to be more put off by him than she probably already was, and he had basically just ensured that she would be by telling her that.

_Freak_ , his memories hissed at him.

_Weirdo_.

_Nut job_.

_Monster_.

Those taunts were silenced, though. The whole world went silent, stopping in its orbit as he felt her hand atop one of his that was still covering his face.

“I have nightmares, Ben. I have them too. And I’m not saying I do the way other people do either. It isn’t just something that happens every now and then or when I’m stressed. It’s— it’s this unending _series_ of nightmares. The things that scare me most, weighing me down like an anchor as I drown. And I never know how to stop. I just—,” her voice cracked. “I just want it to _stop_. But I don’t know how. And so I stay awake. I put them off until my body just... just _fails_ me. Goes weak and gives in.”

He shifted to his side to face her, careful to move his hands away while still holding onto her hand. He watched her as she boiled like a kettle, stewing to her peak. He could see it in her eyes.

_So lonely, afraid to leave the waking, yet so desperate to sleep._

And now as he watched her, it was his turn to give her the pass to either end it there or continue.

She continued.

“The things that come to mind... they’re the worst things. Things and people. Things and people set out to hurt me. Who _have_ hurt me. Who remind me of what I am.”

“What are you, Rey?” He asked hoarsely.

Her lip trembled and she then went into frantic _hysterics_. “ _Nothing_. I come from nothing. I _am_ nothing. I often see their faces, Ben. The faces of my _parents_ , before they left me. They _left_ me, Ben. They left me and _never_ came back. They put me into the hands of other faces that haunt my sleep. And remembering their faces hurts, but the nightmare lies within the remembrance of my parents _mocking_ me. Mocking me by telling me they’d come _back_. Like it was a _joke— nothing_ to them. _I_ was nothing to them, Ben. I didn’t mean _shite_ to them. If I wasn’t enough for my own bloody _parents_ , how could I be anything to anyone? I can’t be, Ben. I will never be. And everything I hate about myself is all that I’m left with in the end.”

Tears fell down his face, mirroring the glisten of their trail on Rey’s cheek on his own. He wanted to blot out any stain that tarnished, buff out any blow that dented, obliterate anything or anyone that ever hurt her— even if that meant himself. But for now, all he had were his hands and her tears. He wanted to wipe each one away, watching their sheen disappear like the death of a star against the night sky.

So he did. With his most tender touch, he used his thumb to carefully wipe each drop of sadness that brushed her skin. He didn’t know how long this took or how many strokes he gave, but it didn’t matter. It would never matter.

He wished he had the words that she needed to hear, or whatever it was she was so hungry for. Because she kept looking at him through glassed eyes— that same hunger and longing was there.

“You’re _not_ nothing, Rey. Not to me.”

“And I—,” she whimpered as a whisper, “I don’t... I don’t sleep. I never sleep, Ben. To sleep, for me, is to lose. To lose—“

“ _Control_.”

She moved her palm from her eyes, wiping away the sporadic tears that streaked down her face. She nodded with a sniffle. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I’m sorry, I just— it’s just coming out and I don’t know why or what to do. I’m so tired. I don’t know what’s up and what’s down. I don’t know how I ended up here, telling you this. Maybe I’m tired from the lack of sleep. Or maybe I’m tired from feeling this. From feeling so _alone_.”

He didn’t care how much it’d normally phase him or make him uncomfortable to do so, he just wanted her to feel _better_. He had to _touch_ her. He had to _comfort_ her. He had make sure that she _knew_. That she knew that...

“You’re not alone, Rey,” he murmured as his thumb stroked tender circles atop her hand that was still in his. His other arm wrapped around her shoulders, tucking her into him. He felt his eyes sting, but not from his usual tiredness.

The whites of her eyes glistened like glass. Shattering glass. “Neither are you.”

She moved her face from his shoulder and looked up at him. If she was hungry before, now she was ravenous.

“ _Kiss me, Ben._ ”

He felt like he was falling down into the forest below. And somehow he’d managed to defy gravity and soar back to the ground.

But something stopped him from landing fully.

“Rey, I— you’re— you’re feeling vulnerable right now and I don’t—“

She shook her head and backed up from him. “You don’t _want_ to kiss me.”

He almost choked. “No, it’s not that. _At all._ I just— I don’t want you to— to regret it.”

His heard broke as he said the last part. He knew he’d do _anything_ to kiss her right now; or at any given time, really. But he meant it. He didn’t want her to be disgusted with him more than she already was.

But she shook her head and her lips pursed, quirking with emotion. “No I won’t. I mean it, Ben. If you _want_ — if, if you _can_ — please kiss me. _Please_.”

_Galaxies_.

Like the gravity that kept the world going, the most natural, seamless element he could imagine— he and Rey fit together perfectly.

She scooted into him until her legs were draped over his lap and her arms were hanging around his shoulders. He pulled her in closer, one arm against her back and the other rubbing her neck.

When he dared to part his lips, she deepened the kiss. She tasted _sweet_. Sweet from the milk and honey they drank, but also a sweetness that was unique to her. Her lips fit perfectly against his, like she were made for him— or maybe he was made for her. He couldn’t decide. Maybe both.

And he didn’t feel the rush of anxiety that usually flowed around everything he did. He didn’t feel hurried, like he needed to get through this before she changed her mind. He took his time with her, savoring everything she gave.

He wasn’t sure who broke the kiss first. He figured it was probably her.

She was smiling at him but her expression was faint.

_I just ruined everything._

As if she heard his panic, she soothed him by running her fingers through his hair, causing it to lean into her touch like a purring cat.

“I’m tired. I want to go back now.”

* * *

He wasn’t sure where they stood as he helped her take off her coat once they locked the door behind them. He figured now she would for sure tell him to leave, or maybe beat him to it by making a mad dash up the stairs.

She did neither, though.

She curled up, holding her knees to her chest as she watched him take off his coat and boots. The circles under her eyes were deeper from the crying, and her complexion was slightly paler from the cold; her cheeks and lips were vibrant, though.

He stood directly across from her, unsure of what to do next. He looked at his gray socked feet and put his hands in his pockets as they thawed out.

Just as he was about to turn to start going back to his room, taking her silence as the dismissal, she stopped him.

“Will you stay with me?” Her voice trickled into his ears the way the sunlight does in the morning.

He was still flushed from earlier, and yet somehow managed to redden even more. “What?”

She bit her lip and continued rocking. The back of her hand went to wipe her nose with a little sniffle. “Will you stay here with me, Ben? Until I fall asleep?”

He knew that he should remind her— and himself— that it was probably not the best idea. If not for _her_ sake, for _his_ sake. His head was already reeling with a flurry of emotions, leaving him feeling completely out of control. More so than usual.

But she just watched him, and from the look in her face, he could practically _hear_ her stomach growl.

_She wants something I have._

_And I’ll give her anything— everything, I have._

_Galaxies_.

So he nodded. He sat at the end of the couch with his back leaning against the armrest. He figured she would lay down against the other armrest and he could just slip out and put a blanket over her when she fell asleep, allowing him to go back to his room. But he was beginning to realize he shouldn’t assume anything with Rey.

He could feel the warm huffs of air leaving her nostrils as she cozied into him, still scrunching her knees against her chest. He didn’t know what to do with his arms, so they hung out limply on each side of the couch.

Her breathing relaxed after a few minutes but she wasn’t asleep yet.

“Will you touch me, Ben? Touch my back? Run your hands through my hair?”

He gulped, hoping she didn’t pick up on the shake developing in his movements as he guided one arm to cradle her back and the other to trace circles around her hairline.

“Feels good,” she muttered sleepily as she snuggled closer.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. It felt _so good_ — _so natural_ , that it scared him.

No, it _terrified_ him. Because this wasn’t natural. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t real. Because as soon as she woke up and realized what had happened, what she did in her state of desperate loneliness, she would hate him even more.

He tried to take comfort in knowing he had tried to stop it and that she was asking for this, but it didn’t really help. Because there was no way on earth Rey would ever want anything to do with him if she knew better. If she wasn’t so lonely, lonely enough to take whatever crumbs she found.

Because, as she played with his hair lazily and pressed the bridge of her nose into his neck, he realized what Rey was so hungry for.

She hungered for belonging. To be wanted. Accepted. Desired. Cherished. _Loved_ , in the purest sense of the word.

She was malnourished. Starved for it, desperate to find it wherever she could.

And Ben had _so much_ of it to give. But once she woke up in his arms just as she had on the train, she would realize it was just desperation. And she wouldn’t want it anymore. And he had to be okay with that; he’d have to hold onto these small fragments of herself she gave him. They’d have to last him until he somehow stumbled upon it again.

He knew he wouldn’t, though. Because it was just Rey. Always Rey.

He felt his eyes ache again. He decided he ought to leave, now that she’d gone all this time without speaking or moving, signaling that she’d fallen asleep.

As he began to move her away from him, she clung to him even tighter.

“Please don’t go,” she whispered into his ear.

She couldn’t see his face, and he was glad she couldn’t. She’d already seen him cry far more than he ever meant her to.

“Rey, I should go. I can help you to your room if you need help. Or get Rose to come down here and help.”

She stirred. “I don’t _want_ Rose. I want _you_. Want you to stay here, Ben. Want you to hold me. Kiss me again. Don’t want you to leave me. _Be with me_.”

Her voice was so soft, so broken. Sleep had filled her voice, but there was something in it that made him think— granted, only for a second— that maybe she did mean it.

So he stayed. He didn’t mind the ache that was building around his shoulder blades as the wood in the couch frame dug in. He didn’t mind that the couch was too small to fully extend his legs. He didn’t mind any of it.

Once he settled back in, Rey exhaled with satisfaction. Both eyes were closed and the creases of his sweatshirt had made little lines along her face, but she wasn’t deterred. She sat up enough to leave a sleepy, lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth, just barely missing her target.

She huffed again softly. “Cold.”

“I’ll go get a blanket,” he yawned, trying to decide whether or not he should use this as his chance to give her space and go.

“Mhm-mhmm,” she shook her head against his shoulder. “S’fine.”

His fingers grazed the material of her shirt. It was a thin cotton-y material, surely not thick enough to warm her.

“Lift up just a tiny bit,” he instructed her softly as she slowly leaned against the headrest of the couch against her arm, falling deeper in sleep yet somehow staying up.

He somehow managed to maneuver his sweatshirt off, leaving him in just the T shirt underneath. He’d probably get cold too but he knew Rey would be colder.

He tenderly fitted it over her head and helped her slip into it. It was his favorite sweatshirt; it was all black and had a little hole off to one of the sides, but it was at the point in its existence where it was worn and washed enough to be soft and comforting. It made him happy, whenever he wore it. Poe would tease him, calling it his ‘good boy’ sweater.

He liked the way Rey looked in it, though. It fit her like a dress and engulfed her entire form, allowing for her fingers to just barely peek out of the sleeves.

The softest little coo slipped from her lips as she burrowed in the sweater, wrapping herself in something of his— a sight he could love forever. She lazily swung over and reclined herself against his chest and clung to him. She perched on his lap and hooked her arms around his shoulder, giving him so much with just a look— a look he couldn’t quite decipher, yet felt familiar all the same. Her eyes were clouded by exhaustion; not the same exhaustion that underlies within defeat, but the exhaustion that’s preamble to coming home after being gone too long. Even though he couldn’t see himself, he knew his eyes held the same meaning. 

Once they settled back in, he resumed his task of combing her hair with his fingers and stroking her back.

He made one last effort to move, either to comfy himself or go back to his own room, but just like before, she held on tighter.

“Be with me,” was the last thing she said before sleep took her.

“I’ll always be with you, sweetheart,” was the last thing he said before sleep took him.

And he meant it. He knew he did; wake or slumber, wherever she went, his heart would be with her. Always.

Even if she no longer wanted it; even if it was just for a night.

And apparently it was.

The first thing he felt was his sweatshirt, tossed on his chest. And the first thing he saw was a blur of a person, getting farther and farther way from his sight. And the first thing he heard as he woke up was shuffling up the stairs.

She left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys once again for your thoughtful, wonderful comments. It really does move me to know that you guys read my stories and take the time to comment. Especially since all your comments are so well thought out and laced with kindness and encouragement.
> 
> Sometimes i get into funky moods when it comes to my writing abilities; insecurity is often an unwelcome yet recurring intrusion in our minds, and I try my best to dismiss it. Easier said than done, of course. But reading your comments, DMs, tweets, and even getting a kudos truly silences the doubts that fester on a tremendous scale, so I can’t convey how grateful I am for what you give. I hope to keep growing as a writer and I’m thankful that I’ve gotten to know you guys through our shared love of reylo. Thank you thank you thank you!
> 
> Xx,
> 
> Cristina
> 
> (PS)
> 
> Moodboard and drawing by me :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The repercussions of hasty actions and misunderstandings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, mind the tags!
> 
> I listened to Exile by Taylor Swift and Bon Iver as I wrote the last section of this chapter... do what you will with that piece of information

The sun hadn’t quite come up between the tall trees yet, but its preamble glow simmered into the room, through the exposed cracks in the curtains.

As vague as it was, its warmth touched everything in its path. Rey felt its warmth, wrapping her in an embrace she doubted she’d ever want to escape from.

And for once, it felt beautiful— the nothingness.

It wasn’t the sort of nothingness she was used to: the sinking, debilitating aftertaste of loneliness. This was something else.

It was the feeling of being weightless— freedom, no longer being taxed down by inhibition and fear. Something akin to floating on your back along crystal waters; everything is quiet. Restful. The calm before the storm, and yet the storm had changed direction. Fresh air that fills the lungs after running, running, running. A sense of peace that silences the violence; new life breathed out into the lifeless; the warmth of light simmering through the cold darkness, glowing with energy.

Among her, the world was at balance. She was safe. She was all right. Because within her— that same balance.

It wasn’t an image; it was a _feeling_. A sensory refuge, a shelter among the chaos.

It was a dream about nothing and yet left her to fluently feel something. Something like warmth, security, shelter. Like she was safely tucked away, shielded from the world that had always seemed too big and too scary for her.

It was a feeling Rey had chased after ever since she’d known it, if she ever fully had before.

The feeling of having a bunk to herself every now and then when she lived in the orphanage was close to this. Of not having too curl up into herself and scavenge for space on the dull mattress, likely to be found in toward the bottom corner, against the wall that had a window. That damn window. Always a little broken. When the creaking sound had finally been dealt with, it wouldn’t shut all the way. It’d always stay open ajar, allowing for the fierce cold air to creep in and nip whatever skin wasn’t covered with an itchy blanket.

But it wasn’t always like that. Not when she didn’t have to share her bunk with one or two other children, small enough to all fit but too big to fit comfortably. Maybe that comfort she felt when she had the whole mattress to stretch on and the entire rough wool duvet to cover her was one of those instances.

Or the feeling she’d get when she remembered that she was not entirely unwanted whenever she’d be placed in a new foster home, even if that didn’t last too long. The day before she’d arrive, her social worker would remind her that this person went out of their way to try to accommodate her— that she was wanted, and she shouldn’t doubt her worth. And even if that ended up being one of many false hopes, it was enough to breathe life into her for a little while; it made her feel something, and she held onto it for however long she could.

It was always an in-between. The muted rush one feels when they’re on their way; the time it takes to get somewhere; reaching for something so close but not quite touching it.

And Rey had decided that she could live with that. Make good use on the small comforts and bits of will she’d scavenge, and collect the pieces into something whole. Even if she didn’t know what she was building, it was all she had.

But this, right now— this was something she could easily make a lifetime of feeling.

It wasn’t just an in-between; it was the rapture of finally arriving.

And as the lights began to reach her eyes, she saw where it was she had arrived.

She was where she was the last time she had been on the cusp of this feeling— with Ben.

Her lids were slow to open, eyes still heavy with sleep. She had never slept more comfortably, with the exception of the train ride. She rested her cheek against the firmness of his chest, and it suddenly dawned on her that their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. She was the perfect height for him, able to cubby her face into his shoulder in such a way that his chin could rest atop her head; he was all muscle, but the places her body pressed into his were smooth and soft enough for her to melt into.

It was a silly mental image, but she smiled as she considered that this was probably how it’d feel to be butter melting onto a pancake, and the morning sun was the warm, golden syrup.

It just felt so right. Just as right as it did to kiss him. He somehow had the ability to make her feel a sense of safety and fondness that she had been so hungry for.

She traced the corners of his mouth with her thumbs, trying to memorize every small detail of his face. His beautiful face.

He looked so lovely as he slept. She loved the way his lips pursed and the ghost of a smile reached the corners. He had the most beautiful lips; soft and silky like rose petals, colored deeply and passionately as if they’d been soaked by the finest red wine.

And they felt like heaven against her own. She had never been kissed like that. Kissed by someone who cherished every second they were connected, taking his time with her. He held her face and kissed her deeply like his only purpose in life was to nourish her, cherish her. Every touch held the weight of something deeper than lust. Light like a breeze, consuming like a flame. Deeply and devoted.

She found herself hovered over him as he slept. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to tuck herself away into him forever.

_Forever_.

She decided she would indeed kiss him again when they woke up. So she drifted back into sleep and her thoughts drifted back into the dreamscape of her subconscious. Back to the strange yet lovely imagery of herself in pieces, coming together once and for all.

The nondescript, omniscient narrator of her dream posed the question: would become of her when she had those pieces and they all finally connected? They connected in each ridge and detail, seamlessly weaving together the shape of something; something she could see more and more, solid and clear. What would those pieces put together? What would they create? _Who_ would they create?

As she held those pieces together and became one with there compilation, then take a moment to see what she’d become, what would she see staring back at her from the looking glass? Some days it seemed to be the prelude of what she’d already known; the faces of her parents. Perhaps the uniformed, nondescript, blank faces of her numerous foster parents. A reflection of those who never loved her? A super cut of all the rejections and painful memories she just prayed would somehow go away, but never really did?

Her friends? The people she’s met over the years? Would it be a reflection of herself, fine but not _good_? Standing alone, malnourished and jaded?

There were pieces of all of them in her; these were the people and memories that became part of her.

But as she looked at the reflection in front of her, clouded at first but clarity rolling in, she felt something. Something in her that’d always been there, but now was awake. Awoken by the gentle touch of someone who _loved_ her; who poured out something immaculate and profound that she’d been searching for this entire time. She was on the precipice of it, her fingers reaching forward and closing in as it became clearer.

But it wasn’t a reflection of herself. It wasn’t a reflection of the people who wanted to hurt her.

It wasn’t the reflection of someone she’d stayed behind for her whole life, secretly hoping they’d come back. It was someone who still could. The belonging she sought out— not behind her, but was now ahead of her. In front of her, looking her in the eye with those expressive, stormy, tender whiskey eyes of his.

_Ben_.

And just as their hands were about to meet, he slipped away. He grew colder, farther from her touch. He faded into the darkness, and part of her went with him.

And as Rey stirred and felt his arms wrapped around her, she was left unsure of whether she’d just awoken from a dream or a nightmare.

That was enough to stop her lips from ever reaching his. Because she remembered more about the night before. How much she _wanted_ this with him; she wanted it so much, she felt _desperate_.

Something Rey hated feeling. Feeling so desperate for something, wanting it so much it scared her.

And what she felt now as she laid on was a very real, very present fear. It wasn’t the dramatic recollection of trauma; it was a chronic fear that would get bigger and bigger every second of every day until it ate her up.

It was different than the other culminating anxiety that plagued her whenever she’d been rejected before. This was different because it was not a rejection. It was an _embrace._

The embrace of something she so desperately wanted. It was a taste of something she was starved for.

But this wasn’t it. This wasn’t love.

This was _pity._ An act of mercy, even.

Ben wasn’t holding her because he _wanted_ to. He was holding her because she asked— no, _begged_ — him to do it. He kept telling her over and over that he didn’t want to. He kept trying to leave but she didn’t let him.

He felt _bad_ for her; maybe he felt a sense of obligation, since they had confided in one another. But it didn’t mean nearly as much to him as it did to her.

Her stomach soured as the events of the night before became more vivid. She was horrified with herself; she begged him to kiss her. She guilted him into it. He didn’t want to, he was even going to say he didn’t want to until she evoked pity from him. She took and took and took; and Ben gave. He gave because she was desperate.

Whatever connection she felt was mere projection. Her eyes welled with tears as this realization set in on her.

She’d picked up on the aching, devastating loneliness Ben felt from the moment they met. She’d seen him as she walked out of that party, sitting all alone in the dark. And it was like something in him called to her, _begging_ her to fix it. She _needed_ to fix it. To soothe him, nourish him.

Because she felt that very same loneliness, and that’s what she needed.

Deep down, she knew she never hated Ben. She liked him. _A lot._ She always had. Because she knew he wasn’t a monster. She saw something in him that radiated warmth, and she was drawn in like a moth to light. And so she picked at him, trying to find any and all reason to abandon those thoughts of him. Because she liked him, and she knew he was lonely. And she thought that maybe, just maybe, they could be less alone together.

But he didn’t want it. He never made any indication that he did, but Rey insisted on it. His words haunted her.

_‘You don’t seem to get that, Rey. You never do.’_

She so urgently craved to be loved, and whenever an increment of compassion had been given to her, she binged on it. She clung to it and poked and prodded until she got more. She was needy. She was too much.

Of course Ben relented. She preyed upon his own vulnerability; the one time he finally let her in after so much refusal, she didn’t just take the invitation— she barged in and made herself at home.

And whatever chance she had of staying was all shot to hell now.

She ruined everything.

Her hands parted from his face like he had burned her. And maybe he did. But it was her fault for throwing herself into his blaze just to feel warm.

The smoke filling her lungs was the smell of him. The fading trace of his cologne and the clean fragrance of soap, just like in the coffee shop. There was also remnants of the night before: sharp pine from the outdoors, and hickory smoke from the fireplace across from them.

Even his sweatshirt was searing her skin; it was weighing heavy on her, only pulling her to him more. So she fumbled her way off of him, flinching when his brows knitted and lips quirked upon the disruption— _desertion_.

She shucked off the sweatshirt and all but threw it at him. She didn’t know if it was that or the tumbling noise of her feet rushing up the stairs that woke him up, but she didn’t look back to check. She only knew he woke up because she heard him call her name out in that deep, gruff, warm voice, a voice that caused a shiver down her spine each time she heard it.

“ _Rey?_ ”

If she was mistaken, only hearing his call by sheer hope on her part and he really hadn’t woken up, the slam of her door shutting behind her surely would wake him.

* * *

Thankfully everyone started the day late. It was their last full day in the park before they return back home the next morning, so everyone took their time. When Rey finally found the courage to come out of the room (out of hiding, really), she saw Poe and Kaydel making breakfast, Jannah setting the table, and Rose, Armitage, and Mitaka sitting on the couch as they waited.

Rey’s heart sunk as she looked on the couch and thought of what happened the night before.

The couch was green; outside was green; there were flecks of green in Ben’s eyes. Green in everything, just as Ben was. It was always her favorite color, and now the sight of it made her heart ache.

She also noticed that everyone had made their way down and was just about ready to start the day... all except Ben. From what she could see, he was nowhere in sight. She wanted to ask about him, find out where he was, but she didn’t want to raise any suspicion.

_Maybe not asking is more suspicious?_

_No, I should just mind my business._

_But where is he?_

She had to know. She was sure he was fine. Why wouldn’t he be? But she just had to know why he wasn’t there.

“Good morning,” she announced herself to the trio in the kitchen.

“Morning!” They greeted her back.

She made her way to the counter and did her best to casually lean back and seem relaxed. She considered asking Rose or Armitage, but Rose would most definitely take it too far. And as overbearing and nosy as Poe can be, for some reason, she felt drawn to asking him instead; it almost felt like Poe understood something that had never been spoken into existence. And she needed someone to understand without making her speak.

Not only that, but he knew she and Ben were together the night before.

“Hey,” she called to him as he chopped onions next to where she stood.

“Good morning, sunshine. How’s it going?”

She shrugged and forced a smile. “Good! Excellent. Very good.”

He eyed her curiously and gave a nod. “Uh-huh. That’s good.”

“And yourself?”

“Good!” He smiled, answering more sincerely than she had. “Sad to be leaving this beautiful place, but today’s gonna be good. I can feel it.”

“Oh yeah? Yes, it’s been wonderful. The park, the cabin, all of it. I’ve had a wonderful time.”

“That’s good. That was the plan,” he winked, using the blade of the cutting knife to group the onion bits into a pan.

“Right on,” she added in agreement. She waited a moment before continuing. “So... what’s the plan for today? Is, um... is everyone ready?”

Poe looked at her for a long moment before replying. “I think we’re uh, we’re just gonna do a hike that leads to May Lake. Then a bonfire later on. I think today’s gonna just be chill, since we’re going to have to wake up really early tomorrow.”

He smiled and kept chopping. “And yeah, everyone’s ready... well, _almost_ everyone.”

Her lips formed a thin line and her eyes widened. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Just, uh... just waiting on Ben.”

“Ah. I see. Very well then.”

He nodded. “I’m guessing you guys got in late last night?”

Rey bit her lip and didn’t meet his eye. “Um... well, not terribly late. I mean, it was already late when we had gone out.”

“Uh-huh. That’s nice. I just figured it must’ve been quite the rendezvous since he’s still not up yet.”

_He’s asleep?_

Rey was nearly too deep into her consideration of what this might mean to realize Poe was looking at her, waiting for her response.

“Oh. Um. Yeah... I mean no, no it was, um... it was nice. We, uh, we just drove up to a place— tunnel something. Sat out and talked. It was nice.”

She could tell Poe suspected there was more to what she was telling him, but he was merciful enough to leave it alone.

For now, at least.

By the time everyone crammed into the breakfast nook and a separate dining table and breakfast was being served, Ben finally came down.

He looked like he’d just come back from a shower; his black waves swooped in front of his face and his skin was flushed. Rey remembered feeling the surface of his skin against her own just a few hours ago, how nice it felt. How used to it she was already getting.

She quickly turned her eyes away once he looked to her. She wished she would’ve taken the opportunity to see what his reaction to her was, but she didn’t want him to see that she was staring. She felt like she had already shown him too much for her liking. More so than her liking, her comfort.

There was room for him to sit with her, Rose, and Armitage at the breakfast nook, but he chose to sit on the armchair in the family room, serving himself the breakfast bake Poe and Kaydel made, along with a side of hashed browns and an English muffin, glass of orange juice, and mug of coffee. It was the same selection Rey had made for her own plate. Rey had her coffee with cream; now she wondered how Ben took his coffee.

_I bet he takes it black,_ she thought idly as she watched him leave the kitchen.

Her nose pinched and she frowned. She didn’t like that Ben was filling her thoughts, even in the most mundane of ways. But then again, as she thought in hindsight, he never really was too far off from her mind. Since the night before, he was in the very front and center of her thoughts, but even before that, he was there, no matter how hard she tried to act as if he wasn’t. By convincing herself— and others— that the only thoughts she had of him were of disdain and fury, she justified his residency in her mind.

But that wouldn’t be so easy anymore.

* * *

May Lake was beautiful, of course. The deep blue waters presented a grand reflection of the rocky gray mountains that gated around it, along with the sparse green and gold leafs that topped the trees. It was everything Rey could imagine when the words ‘serene’ and ‘lovely’ came to mind.

That and the man that stood almost as tall as the pines that surrounded them.

She had thus far made no effort to speak with Ben, nor did he with her. She figured it was just as well. Clearly they both understood that the night before was best left forgotten.

Perhaps by not talking about it, it might as well have never happened. And as much as that reality chiseled at Rey’s heart like a dull blade, it was probably what she should want for herself. She should be disgusted by what happened, and want to forget all about it for the rest of her days.

And maybe if she allowed herself to accept that Ben really never wanted this— wanted her— eventually she would feel that way about him too.

Off to the side of the trail, wild chamomile was growing. Yet another reminder of him. She never noticed how delicate and pretty the flower was, with its white petals and honey-colored center. Had she normally seen it without any context, she’d just assume it was a weed. When no one was looking and thus couldn’t tell her otherwise, she quickly picked up a small bunch of the blooms and discretely slipped them into her backpack. It was an impulse she acted on, but she thought of it as a souvenir she could hold onto, maybe press one of the flowers in her notebook or something when she got home. It wouldn’t be a souvenir of Yosemite or the trip as a whole, but of last night; of the Naboo Milk; of Ben.

Just like a weed, her feelings for Ben were now impossible to ignore; they kept growing inside her, blooming to life like a weed. They weren’t ugly, though. Like the chamomile flower, they were pure— beautiful.

_Each cup of tea I’ll have from now on will be different, if there‘s chamomile in it_ , she thought as she dragged behind everyone, scowling at the dirt beneath her feet.

Rose must’ve caught on to her pensive state, considering the worried glances she’d cast her way between strides. She even left Armitage behind so as to walk in sync with Rey, who was always one of the slower trekkers in the group.

“So,” Rose began tentatively, “how’s it going?”

“Oh, hey,” Rey greeted her once she realized Rose was waiting for an answer. “Great. Everything’s, uh... everything’s great. And you?”

She knew that wasn’t the answer Rose was looking for, and that Rose knew Rey knew this.

“I’m fine. Feeling pretty good, I must say. Seeing as, well, I slept the whole night, just as I have the past two nights, instead of sneaking off to who-knows-where at the freaking witching hours.”

Rey bit her lip, somewhat trying to bite back a grin; Rose always had a knack for calling her out in unintentionally witty ways. At least, Rey chose to find the wit in them rather than the truth in them.

“I’ll pinch your ear if you don’t tell me,” Rose threatened, probably without intention of actually doing so.

“Fine,” Rey sighed. She knew she’d eventually have to tell Rose some of what went on in those hours, but she never thought Rose actually had noticed she left their room in the middle of the night. It was slightly comforting to know that _someone_ noticed.

“I... well, you know I have trouble sleeping.”

Rose nodded.

“Right. Well, I just... I didn’t really want to worry about waking you up with my rowdiness, so I just slipped away downstairs and hung out in the family room.”

That was partially true. She selected not to mention who she’d met when she was down there, and it became apparent that Rose noticed her selection when she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms as she stared her down.

“I know that. But what I want to know is where you went last night that ended in you all but running up the stairs and hiding in the blankets. You make more noise than you think you do, ma’am.”

Her cheeks blushed. “I um... I just stepped out for some fresh air. That’s all.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Rey. Come on. I may love to tease the hell out of you, but you know I’m just teasing. I want you to trust me— to know you can turn to me if you want to talk about things. And I won’t make you if you don’t want to, but I think that it might be good to let some of that out. I _know_ something’s bothering you.”

This call-out wasn’t funny in the slightest; there was no wit to be found, just truth.

Rey rubbed her eye with the back of her hand; there were still sleepies she had missed when washing her face earlier. She looked in all directions to make sure Ben wasn’t in earshot, because the last thing she needed was for him to know she was so preoccupied over him she’s now even talking to their friends about him.

“Yes. Okay? Yes, Ben and I... we were together. _Not like that,_ ” she corrected herself when Rose’s eyes widened. “But... neither of us could sleep, so we just... we just ended up hanging out.”

“And last night? What happened, Rey?”

“I kissed him. Or, well... I _asked_ him to kiss me.”

Rose had a small grin. “Yeah? How was it?”

“It was... it was _great_ , Rose. Pretty great.”

_It was more than great._

Rose playfully bumped her shoulder. “Then what’s the matter, then?”

Rey’s brows knitted. “What do you mean ‘what’s the matter?’ Everything’s the matter Rose. It was very much a mistake and now everything’s shot to hell.”

Her friend looked at her as if she were speaking in tongues. “How? I’d think things would be splendid between you guys now.”

Now Rey looked at her with genuine confusion. “We _hate_ each other, Rose. Don’t you know that?”

Rose looked ahead and rested her focus on Ben, who was walking at the front of the group with Poe and Finn. His shoulders were slouched and he glanced back at them for the briefest second before returning his attention to Finn.

“I know _something_ , but that isn’t it. Something tells me _you’re_ the one who doesn’t know. And maybe _he_ doesn’t either.”

* * *

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly. They finished their hike and all drove up to Tunnel View, since _most_ of the group hadn’t seen it yet.

Rey feigned surprise and astonishment as they all took in the sight, as if she’d never seen anything like it before; it was glorious, seeing the collection of rich jewel tones ahead of them and the way the trees would sway along with the cool breeze. She was able to notice more details than she had the night before, but whether that was because there was daylight to expose the scenery or that she wasn’t captivated by something ( _someone_ ) else, she wasn’t sure.

After that, they returned to the cabin and everyone joined in the kitchen to prepare for their last meal there. They had bought hotdogs, chips, and supplies to make s’mores over a bonfire, along with some hard cider to wash it down with.

She was asked to cut up the chocolate bars into even-sized squares with Jannah.

They chatted idly about the trip, agreeing on how it was exactly what they needed. As Jannah had gone on about the funny things Kaydel would say in her sleep, Rey did her best to focus. She couldn’t though, not completely. She kept finding her attention shifting between Jannah’s expressive, pretty face as she spoke, and over to Ben, who would come in and out of the kitchen to gather up some of the food trays to be set up outside.

Her observation was disrupted by Jannah making show of clearing her throat.

“Sorry,” Rey apologized, looking down at the misshapen chocolate squares she cut while she wasn’t paying attention.

Jannah put her hand on her lip and smirked. “Girl. Are you okay? Why do you keep staring at Ben?”

Rey put her hand on Jannah’s arm while looking around, as if that would somehow ensure Jannah’s silence.

“Jannah! Shh! I’m not staring at— at anyone,” she hissed.

Jannah chuckled. ”Then why are you blushing like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to?”

Rey usually loved Jannah’s blunt, cool way of speaking, but right now it was not working in her favor.

“I am not blushing,” she lied. She could feel her cheeks heat up.

“Okay, just like you are not disfiguring those poor chocolate squares,” she teased as she took the two laughably uneven pieces out of her hands.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry to me,” Jannah hummed as she took over the chopping. “Be sorry to whoever gets the sad little scraps you cut up while looking at Ben.”

“Jannah,” Rey groaned, growing even pinker. “I wasn’t looking at him.”

Jannah didn’t say anything for a long moment, continuing to cut the chocolate in neat, even squares. As Rey collected them and piled them on the plate, she felt eyes on her.

She looked up and saw Jannah, on her right, leaned against the counter and was staring at her knowingly. On her left, Ben was standing there, staring with a look Rey couldn’t decipher.

Her lips parted as she struggled to speak, just gaping at him like a dumb goldfish, as Ben just looked at her like he was tired. Irritated, maybe even disgusted.

_Disgusted by me._

Jannah finally relieved her suffering by nudging her shoulder. “Hey, Ben.”

Ben tilted his head up toward Jannah. “Hey.”

Jannah stepped in between and handed Ben the tray that Rey had been grasping. “Here ya go.”

Ben kept his eyes on Rey, who was looking down with embarrassment at that point, and then shook his head as if to snap out of it once Jannah presented him with the tray. “Thanks.”

He walked off, not once looking back, leaving Rey to face the painful awkwardness she had created.

“Yeah. ‘Not looking,” she laughed as she patted her back in a friendly way.

“It’s just... it’s complicated, okay? I mean, Ben and I... we can’t stand each other. You know that.”

Jannah was smiling, wiping her hands with a paper towel as Rey finally looked up to her. “Don’t you guys get tired of saying that?”

Rey’s lips parted again but she still didn’t manage out any words for a little bit, only thinking to say “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jannah rolled her eyes and let out a breath. “Ben’s not a bad guy, you know.”

Rey just shrugged, not wanting to agree with that— because she didn’t, but not wanting to give in either.

“My dad’s friends with his dad. I’ve known Ben for a long time. We’re not that close or anything, but he’s cool. Been through a lot.”

“What do you mean?” Rey asked softly.

Jannah put her hands out defensively. “Not my place to say. I really probably don’t even know the whole story. But I’ll just put it out there that Ben... he can come off harsh. But his main problem is this: if he doesn’t like you, you’ll know it.”

Jannah began stepping out of the kitchen, zipping up her blue bomber jacket to go outside. She stopped though and gave Rey one last knowing look.

“But if he does like you... well, you may never know it, if he has it his way.”

Once Jannah left the room, Rey groaned and slouched down, resting her face in her folded arms. She was tired of these vague implications that everyone seemed to understand except her.

* * *

Rey didn’t look at Ben once during the bonfire. She smiled just as beautifully as she always did, sitting between Rose and Finn on the opposite side and laughing with them. As if nothing had changed within the last 24 hours.

And maybe for her, nothing had changed.

But everything had changed for Ben.

It was never the same thing from the beginning, though. So maybe it really hadn’t changed; maybe the only thing that happened was that he became aware of her side of things.

He realized Rey truly couldn’t stand him, that it was never just an act or even something he could perhaps find a way to change.

She didn’t say a word to him all day. She couldn’t even look him in the eye when he managed to look at her without breaking away. Her ability to ignore him was potent enough to make him question his own existence.

So she went on, shining in front of him, aglow with the warm, golden fire. And he just watched her from the outside, where the shadows made it even colder.

The crashing realization that this really all had been a mistake weighed on him with each passing moment they were around each other. Now he felt like the lost child, on the outside looking in with longing eyes and a hungry heart.

Now that he knew what that hunger was really for. He found it in Rey, but she didn’t find it in him after all.

_A dream to me is a nightmare to her,_ he remembered.

So when Poe gave out tasks to everyone after the bonfire ended, being paired with Rey for dish cleaning felt like both a miracle and a punishment. Whether or not Poe did this on purpose, he didn’t know.

While everyone busied themselves outside by taking out the trash, making sure the firepit was clean and put out, returning all the lounge chairs, etc., he and Rey were exiled into the kitchen without a word to the other.

Rey immediately manned the sink, signaling to Ben that he would dry the dishes. An unspoken system was established where Rey would wash the dish, put it on the empty counter space between them, and Ben would dry it and put it away. It didn’t require either of them to speak to the other, which was clearly what Rey wanted.

And normally he would too. Normally this would all be too much for him to wrap his head around, let alone address. But the silence between them was heavy, the way water of the ocean grew heavy as you sink down to its depths. The room felt colder than it usually did.

So as the opportunity to say something dissipated as more dishes got cleaned, he spoke.

“Hey,” he muttered quietly as he dried his hands with a towel.

“H— hi, uh, Ben,” she answered him, just as quietly.

He crept over closer to her, doing his best to not look at her. She didn’t want to look at him either. How could she?

He wanted to regret staying. He wanted to look back and wish he had the strength to leave; to not be selfish and to listen to that voice in his head that told him she would only hate him more when she woke up the next morning. When she saw herself with him. Something she never wanted to see.

And why would she?

She was just desperate for someone— _anyone_. And he was even more desperate. Desperate to _be_ that someone. Even if it only for the night.

But he didn’t regret staying. And he never _would_ regret staying, if she asked him to. And she did. He wished he would’ve remembered how much more it would hurt to _feel_ her regret him, though. But he could never say no to Rey. Not when she _needed_ him. Even if only for the night.

“I, um,” he ran his fingers through his hair. ”I was wondering if... if maybe we should talk about last night.”

“I’d rather we not,” she said simply. A wave of pain came over him, causing him to flinch as if she had slapped him.

“Alright. If that’s what you want,” he nodded as he continued stacking plates. Ben was muscular and strong, yet each porcelaine plate weighed tons in his hands in that moment.

Rey turned her back to him and busied herself at the sink. “I’m sorry,” she said flatly. “I— I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve thought ahead. It— it wasn’t a good idea. It was foolish of me. It didn’t mean anything. I put you in a difficult position. And I... I regret that. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” he said softly. He didn’t walk away though. Why couldn’t he just walk away?

_She doesn’t want you._

_She hates you._

_Just leave._

_You’re making it worse._

_You disgust her._

_Don’t you get it?_

_It didn’t mean anything to her._

_She_ regrets _it._

_She_ regrets _you._

_You never get it._

_How many people have to show you out before you realize they don’t want you around?_

But he couldn’t find the strength in his bones to carry himself out. So he just stood there, frozen in place.

He gulped down her words, hating the bitter aftertaste. But maybe he needed it. Maybe he needed to savor the taste of her rejection to remember it; remember the burn of this small serving of it before he opened himself up to drown in it the next time.

So he nodded. He rolled his lips together, hoping the tightness the movement pulled from his face would keep the sting in his eyes at bay.

Once he dried the last dish in silence, he put it away.

“I, um,” he said once he was finished. “I won’t come down here tonight, by the way. So if you’re gonna sleep here, don’t worry. I won’t be coming down.”

“Right,” Rey all but whispered, nodding her head. “Thank you, Ben.”

“Sure,” he said quietly. He then headed for the exit, leaving Rey with her back turned to his.

“Ben,” he heard her call. Her voice sounded strained, like it ached when she spoke.

_Just go. Just walk away. Stop lingering. Stop staying where you’re not wante_ d.

He didn’t turn back, but he paused in place. Because there’d always be a part of him that couldn’t walk away whenever Rey called for him.

“Did you mean it?”

His jaw ached from the way he had been clenching it, as well as from the pressure of his jowls turning downward from the protruding frown on his face.

“Mean what?” He murmured, still not turning to face her. He was pretty sure she wasn’t facing him either.

“When you... when you said that I... That... that I wasn’t— nevermind. Sorry. It’s nothing.”

“‘ _Nothing_?’”

“Yeah. Sorry, this is stupid. Goodnight Ben,” her voice cracked.

He took a chance and looked over his shoulder. She still had her back turned, but he saw her arm move away from her face. There was a sheen on the back of her hand, gleaming as the kitchen light casted on it.

“Goodnight, Rey.” He said plainly, deciding it was for the better to just keep going.

But he wasn’t strong enough to even do that. So he stopped again before closing door behind him. And he turned around, looking at her without stopping. He could hear the soft sounds of her sniffles.

_‘I’ll always be with you_ ,’ he remembered telling her the night before. And he’s _never_ lied to her before; he _could never_ lie to her, even if he wanted to.

“And for the record— I _did_ mean it. Every single word of it. I meant it when I said that. I meant _everything_ that happened last night. I know how I feel, Rey. How I _still_ feel. So no, it’s not stupid. It’s _not nothing_. Not to me. And I don’t know that there’s anything you could do to change that.”

He didn’t wait to catch her reaction. He closed the door behind him, leaving before she had to tell him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My gratitude for the response on this story cannot be overstated. I went through a slight rough patch while collecting this chapter together but I reread each and every comment you guys have given me and so I just want to say thank you again and let you guys know how much your words mean to me. Hearing what you guys think, especially comments by the same users on each chapter as the story progresses, really is such a fulfilling, irreplaceable feeling for me. It’s incredibly encouraging and I could use all the encouragement I can get. Thank you guys for everything <3
> 
> I’m sure you’ve noticed the chapter count has gone up; we’re almost at the end of the story though, with only one chapter left + an additional chapter for the epilogue. Thank you for sticking through it and I continue thriving on your commentary via comment, tweet, DM, and/or kudos. If you like the story, it’d mean a lot to me if you shared it... but honestly, just knowing you’re here reading it already fills my heart to the brim.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The train ride home brings Ben and Rey together in an unexpected way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mention of anxiety/panic attack, disassociation, minor injury, food, attention (triggered by attention/embarrassment) 
> 
> Songs to listen to:
> 
> Coffee & Cigarettes by The Night Game
> 
> Cornelia Street by Taylor Swift
> 
> Fearless by Taylor Swift
> 
> Wildflower by Beach House
> 
> Winter Winds by Mumford & Sons
> 
> Numb by Marina and The Diamonds
> 
> Please Be Mine by Molly Burch
> 
> I Love You Still by Molly Burch
> 
> Fly On Your Wall by Angel Olsen
> 
> A Change Of Heart by The 1975

The train ride back home felt much longer than the ride up. Perhaps that was due to whose close company it was spent in.

Rey wasn’t sure if it was a conscious effort or not to select her seat based on the arrangement last time, but there might have been a silent yet active will that led her to sit in front of Rose and Armitage again and take the window seat, making it very clear that the seat next to her was available. 

And perhaps the Rey of the Friday before would’ve been pleased when Mitaka took the spot and Ben sat alone in another section, his back facing her. But the Rey of Monday— the Rey of today, who was very much alive and pining inside, felt a raw tug pull at her heart, leaving it to ache. 

It was only of superficial comfort to tell herself it could’ve been a coincidence that he made a B-line for a seat on the other end of the carriage, as far away from her side as possible. Maybe Mitaka was faster today than he was the last time. Maybe he wanted to sit next to her as much as she wanted him to, but just missed the chance. 

It was the same line of reasoning that suggested that maybe things would be the same after this weekend, and that maybe all of this really could mean nothing in the end. 

Because she knew that all these musings were just that— musings. Musings of vapid notions that would never be fact. 

_ Things would never be the same after this weekend. _

Her shoulders sagged and her face fell as those thoughts sunk in, causing her chest to grow heavy. And yet, it also left her feeling empty and deflated. 

_ I’ll never feel the same— but really, did I ever feel otherwise?  _

She lost sleep, causing every move of her bones and muscles to grow into a general dull soreness. She didn’t lose sleep just because; she didn’t lose sleep over the same bad memories that usually consumed the lone hours of night. It was a strange feeling that filled her lungs and wore her out with every breath— the feeling of losing something she didn’t have to begin with. 

It was the mourning of it; the mourning of a fleeting feeling, a glimpse of something wonderful. And knowing it was lost because she was too afraid to seek it out and take it might be the worst part. 

She gave no indication that she even wanted to have him, carefully selected each word she did say to convey that this meant nothing to her. She thought she had been merciful by doing so, giving him a way out. But as his words sank in, she realized her design was to give herself a way out. To keep her guard up and walls strong. That’s how it’s always been with Ben, after all. And before he made it so easy to stay away, the way he hid behind his own walls, but now that he’d let her in, she found something in him she could make a home out of. 

Part of her wanted Ben to stay after he said what he said last night and wait for her reaction to his words. But how long would he have stood there, waiting for an answer? A few seconds? A few minutes? Or would any increment of time have been wasted in silence, with no answer from her to come? 

Instinctively, she wished she would’ve asked Ben what he really meant by saying what he said. Of course, she could dissect each word and the way it sounded in her ear as it came out. That would be true to her nature. But this time, she didn’t. Because a part of her knew what he meant. She knew he meant it all. She had known it when she did manage to meet his eyes. In his gaze, she saw the reflection of her dreams— dreams of being loved, desired, cherished. He looked at her as if he was someone who miraculously found it in himself to do that. Like he had what she was so desperately longing for, and was equally desperate for her to take it. It was like he extended out his hand to her, offering her something far beyond momentary comfort and belonging; he extended himself to her sincerely, vulnerably. Like maybe he really did want… something.  _ Someone _ . 

_ Her _ , maybe. Maybe for more than just a night. More than a weekend. More than a few months. Maybe something more profound than he thought he deserved; than  _ she _ thought  _ she _ deserved. 

Like maybe he thought she was someone worth staying for. Worth holding onto.  _ Maybe forever. _

But how long could he wait if he couldn’t find her? If she hid herself away from him and allowed the silence of an old kitchen to speak on her behalf? 

How long would he stand there, waiting to give her his hand if her only response to it was to refuse what he might be offering? All because she was too afraid to take it? 

She wished she would’ve turned around before the door closed behind him when he left. 

Or better yet, she wished she would’ve followed him out; maybe she would’ve found him there, waiting for her.

* * *

As the trip slowly (painfully slowly) progressed, she decided to busy herself. She initially wondered why it felt so much longer this time around but chuckled and shook her head at the thought; she had slept through the majority of it the last time. 

She tried to scribble away at her notebook. Usually making lists or writing out recent events was enough to keep her occupied; sometimes even writing random collections of words that sounded nice together sufficed. She wanted to do something mindless and distracting. But as she wrote on, filling a page in her notebook that had a single chamomile flower pressed onto it, her words unsteady and the ink of them smudged as the train trekked on, she noticed her line of thinking was singularly sourced, woven together seamlessly by a common thread. 

_ Every beautiful place my memories  _

_ Have passed through, _

_ Shifting myself into a snapshot  _

_ Of one mind and view; _

_ I wish you were here, _

_ Next to me, both far and near. _

_ Becoming fixtures of these dreamscapes too, _

_ Only to make the dream even more captivating, _

_ Taking my breath away, causing the night’s dream _

_ To last a night longer. _

_ Every beautiful place my hopes  _

_ Will pass through, _

_ Will be even more beautiful  _

_ With you. _

_ I want you to be here, _

_ Next to me, both far and near. _

She quickly snapped the notebook shut and shoved it into her bag. Rose and Armitage had dozed off, comfortably leaning on each other as they napped. Mitaka had been listening to music and blissfully playing a very outdated version of CandyCrush on his phone (how did he get that?), leaving Rey with nothing else to do. Listening to music and looking out the window as rain showered down the canyons outside didn’t appeal either. There was nothing on her phone that gave way to particular interest, so when someone passed by their section with a drink in hand, she decided she would take a stroll down to the concession stand. 

They had all been seated at the second level of the train so the walk to the concession stand allowed for a generous few moments of distraction as she made her way down. She’d buy a cup of coffee, maybe a muffin, and linger there for a bit before heading back up. Normally she wouldn’t pay the unreasonably high prices the train charged for dull instant coffee and a stale muffin, but she was absolutely restless and bored. 

Much to her surprise, Poe was already at the concession stand, placing an order ahead of her. 

They greeted each other and once she placed her order, they moved over to the side as they waited. 

“How’s the ride going for you?” He asked kindly. 

Rey shrugged. “S’fine,” she answered as she glanced to the floor. “Boring, but nice. Glad none of us have to drive.”

Poe nodded. “Totally. Did you have fun this weekend?”

“Um…,” Rey trailed off, looking past Poe at nothing in particular. “Yes. Yeah. Sorry, um… yes, it was delightful. Very beautiful.”

“Uh huh,” he hummed as he studied her with warm eyes. Poe always conveyed a warm openness when he spoke, using his charm as a hook, reeling in the trust of others. 

“I noticed, uh,” he went on, “you and Ben seemed to be getting along better. For a while there, I mean.”

Rey instantly felt the strong urge to deny it. “It’s nothing,” she lied. 

Uncharacteristically, Poe leaned back against the wall and sighed with an eye roll, making it the first time she’d ever seen him exasperated. 

“Sure it is.”

She scrunched her nose and pursed her lips as her arms crossed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

_ As if Poe can’t see right through me. _

“Do you really not get it?” He said with a laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Get what?” 

He took a moment to study her before answering. “Nothing. Not my place to say. I’ll see you.”

Rey wanted to press him on it, but that’d mean he would press her on it right back. For some reason, speaking something into existence made it all the more terrifying and true, even if she’d always known it to be true. Actually saying it would make denial and repression an even more difficult task, pushing her towards acceptance of the truth.

So maybe if she didn’t formally acknowledge it, the fact that she got in the way of her own happiness,wouldn’t be true. 

Before he was out of sight, he froze in place. When he turned to face her, he was chuckling and shaking his head as if he remembered something funny. 

“But you know, the thing about Ben... he doesn’t do things. Doesn’t show up, doesn’t make plans, doesn’t like to socialize... but interestingly enough, I’ve noticed that whenever he knows there’s a chance you’ll be somewhere, he’ll be there too. Maybe you haven’t noticed that yet, but I definitely have. See you around, Rey.”

Deep down, Rey didn’t need Poe to confirm that she was wrong about Ben. Ben already did so himself, in more ways than one. 

He had never hated her; he had never meant to reject her. He wanted her just as she wanted him, but they both were afraid. They both had scars from the past that were still ghosting their being— less visible but still there. Both too afraid to undress these wounds and allow them to heal; allow them to be seen. But they wanted to be healed; to be seen. 

And in some ways, maybe she had always seen that in Ben. There had always been something in him that called to her, and she to him. He was ready to find her. He looked for her. He stopped hiding; she hadn’t. So when he got close, she retreated. 

She was so afraid that he would regret it when he woke up that morning with herHe would change his mind; change his heart. And so when she’d wake up, he’d be gone. 

This went beyond Ben. This was about her. She was terrified of the things she wanted most in life: to be loved by someone who won’t wake up one day with a change of heart. 

She had been so preoccupied with what would come of it if he were to leave, but she hadn’t considered what could come of it if he stayed. If he was still there with her in the daylight. 

And he was. He was still there when she woke up in the morning. And now, all that was left to consider was what would’ve happened if she had still been there when he woke up, too. 

She thought back one more time to what he said the night before. 

_ ‘I know how I feel, Rey.’ _

_ ‘How I still feel.’ _

_ ‘It’s not nothing. Not to me.’ _

_ ‘And I don’t know that there’s anything you could do to change that.’ _

And if he meant what he said, maybe he was still waiting for her to find him there.

_ I have to fix this. _

* * *

Ben took a deep breath and swayed his head from side to side so as to crack his neck; the seats were uncomfortable, more so than the last time, and he didn’t sleep well. Well, he really didn’t sleep at all, but last night was exceptionally bad. Even his bed, as luxurious and fitted as the mattress was, felt rigid and cold as he laid flat staring at his ceiling the entire night. The headache he was left with only grew in its tenacity as the day dragged on, slowly. He felt himself being tugged at mercilessly by exhaustion, but even if he wanted to succumb to it— needed to, he just couldn’t. 

Even though closing his eyes did nothing to help him fall asleep, it still felt nice to do so. The motion of the train thudding through the tracks and the dreary grayscale scene out the window ensured he remembered where he was before he got too comfortable, though. 

He remembered how it was when he was younger. His parents always elected to drive to and from Yosemite in his dad’s beloved vintage car, a 1977 Millenium Falcon. Whenever Han would start getting cranky, Leia would take over driving; Han would go lay in the backseat and Ben was allowed to sit in the front seat with his mom. She’d take the moments spared at red lights to run her well-manicured hands down the crown of Ben’s head to his neck. It was one of the many small ways she liked to say  _ ‘I love you,’ _ and  _ ‘I’m glad you’re here.’  _

The world outside seemed less gray as they would drive on. When he’d start feeling restless, they’d park at a niche gas station so he could stretch his legs and Chewy, the family dog, could take a ‘potty break,’ as Leia would sigh out with a roll of the eyes. There was always a Chewy in the family; Han ensured whichever Chewy they had always produced puppies so the lineage would continue on. If Ben remembered correctly, the Chewy of today was technically considered Chewy the 10th. 

Sometimes he missed that dog. Sometimes he missed Han and Leia a bit, too. Maybe  _ more _ than sometimes; maybe  _ more _ than a bit. 

It was more painful, to Ben, to miss something that isn’t even gone. He may not have been able to say he knew exactly how Rey felt when her parents left her, because he didn’t. Not exactly. But close to it. 

There was a time where he believed that he would’ve been better off had they not come back for him. It’d be less of a burden to carry nowadays. But it was just one of the numerous pieces of shattered glass on the floor and Ben was still picking up the pieces, still cutting him. 

He didn’t think he’d be okay coming back to the Cabin over the weekend, so as he recollected the overall experience, it was a surprise to see in his mind’s eye moments where he had been happy. Where he hadn’t been thinking of the old memories held between the log walls and tired sequoias outside, but instead was gripping firmly on the happiness of the present. 

But that, too, was now just one of the many images he’d have in mind when recalling the past; just another happy memory, a snapshot of the past. Pleasant to think of in the moment, but always leaving a lingering emptiness once it fades out of mind. 

He decided he should be glad Rey walked away that morning and that she didn’t follow him that night. He was bound to push her away anyway, so she saved him the emotional burden of being the one to have started pushing. He couldn’t deny that there was still the lingering aftertaste of devastation as he thought of how much he wished she wanted to stay as much as he did, though. 

But the truth of the matter is that no matter how much it hurt him to know Rey didn’t want him, he did not want to ever leave her in question of how much he wanted her. Rey could break him down, piece by piece, but in the end, he’d want the pieces to be in her hands only, in hopes that she may miraculously feel inclined to be at his side as he continued to try putting them back together. 

Ben knew how it felt to be left behind, and to be the one who left. And as he measured the weight of each standing, he didn’t want Rey to have to carry either of those loads ever again. He already did enough damage as he tried to push his feelings aside in the past in way of unkind comments and piercing silence in the past. He couldn’t help but wonder if things might be different if he didn’t create any room for doubt of where his heart was in the beginning, but he supposed it was too late now. He never wanted to be a reflection of someone leaving her behind; if all he could have was Rey in memories, dreams, and quiet thoughts on a rainy day, so be it. But he wanted her to know he’d be there waiting for her if she needed him. Always. 

At least that was something he could look back on and feel no regret for, he decided. 

He opened his eyes so he could reach down into his duffle bag for his scarf, feeling a passing draft in the air, but stopped himself from leaning when he noticed that his cup holder at the armrest had something in it that it didn’t have before. 

He scrunched his nose and brows as he plucked out the nondescript white cup with a sip lid. The cup was warm. There was no one sitting next to or in front of him and he was debating whether or not to just leave it there or get up and throw it away when something caught his attention.

As he brought it closer to his face, steam slipped out of the slot on the lid; it smelled sweet and soft. Familiar, even. 

He put his nose up to the brim.

_ Chamomile.  _

He turned the cup to see if there was any name or something writing on the sleeve, and he was surprised to see there  _ was _ something written on it in blank ink that he accidentally smudged a bit as he picked it up. 

**_‘I’m sorry... again._ **

**_(PS)_ **

**_This has nothing on Naboo Milk but hopefully it’ll do the job for now._ **

**_— R’_ **

Beyond his control, he smiled.

It was just regular chamomile tea. Slightly sweet like honey and the typical clean floral edge characteristic of chamomile tea. 

But this cup specifically warmed his entire being down to the bone, sweeping over him like sunshine. It reminded him of every good memory he’d ever had, but not only as passing recollections; it evoked the feelings he felt in those moments. 

How he felt when he got stuck in the rain one afternoon during a hike with Han. How his mother rushed him off to put warm clothes on him and carried him downstairs to sit by the fire, and she massaged gentle figure-eights onto his damp scalp with her oval-tipped nails as he curled up next to her. Then Han would come back down in his fresh clothes and curl up on his other side, patting his back. It was the same winter grandma and grandpa had come along; the first time he tried Naboo milk, once grandma Padme floated out of the kitchen with a mug full of the creamy drink. Grandpa Anakin put on an old movie,  _ Rear Window,  _ and they all sat together as the rain dropped outside and the suspenseful film noir played against it. 

How he felt the night he came back home after all those years of being away, after everything had happened. He and his parents said nothing to each other that night. He sat on the couch in the dark living room, believing that his parents had gone to bed. But then the light from the kitchen glowed out as the door separating the two rooms opened, and out came the small figure of Leia. She didn’t say anything. She placed the posh glass mug holding the milk on the coffee table in front of him and sat quietly next to him. After he drank it, he fell asleep. He knew his mom said nothing else; instead, she put a blanket over him and ran her palm over his head before leaving the room. His father said nothing as he woke up; instead, he patted his back on the way to the kitchen. 

How he felt when he was outside, under the myriads of stars with Rey. How her little nose was capped with cream and how she grasped the mug with both hands, drinking it all in gulps. How he could smell the soft, silky scent of chamomile and cinnamon in the car as they drove to Tunnel View, the road ahead illuminated by moonlight. 

How he felt when they kissed. The way the warmth of her reached the deepest, most hidden parts of him; her lips on his, breathing new life into him. How sweet she tasted, like honey and vanilla as her tongue slipped lazily along with his. Even when she got up and kissed the corner of his lips, half awake, he could smell it on her. 

In those moments, he felt  _ safe _ . He felt  _ known _ . He felt  _ happy _ . He felt  _ loved _ . 

And whether he should or not, he felt it now, too. 

* * *

As the hours passed, Rey couldn’t help but check her phone repeatedly to see if maybe Ben said something about the tea, but eventually she gave it a rest. 

It was a small gesture, really. But it was a start and she had mustered enough courage to take at least this small first step, so she did feel some reprieve from that. 

With a bit of weight lifted off her shoulders, Rey was able to relax. She created a new playlist on her phone and let the music fill the silence the rest of the way. It was still raining outside and the scene became duller and duller the further they got from the lush national park, but it wasn’t as gloomy as it had been before. 

Rose, Armitage, and Mitaka had all been napping the rest of the way; she could see across from her that Poe, Finn, Kaydel and Jannah had also drifted off to sleep. She wondered if she and Ben would be the only ones in the group still awake. 

She checked the time. It was about twenty minutes before they were supposed to arrive. The view out the window was all navy blue with darker silhouettes of trees and hills, so the only source of light was the dimmed, yellow light coming from the bulbs overhead. 

I’m just stretching my legs, she reasoned as she shuffled her phone into her pocket and stepped out of her seat. Mitaka was curled up into somewhat of a fetal position in his chair, so thankfully she didn’t have to maneuver over his legs. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Ben though, so either way it probably wouldn’t have taken too much effort.

Walking toward the section Ben was sitting in was totally out of the way, since it was toward the back of the carriage, nowhere near the amenities or restrooms. But there were some empty seats around so Rey decided she could crouch and try to steal a glance at him, since his back was facing the direction she’d be coming from. That was how she was able to sneak by and leave him the cup of tea earlier, after all. She just got lucky that his eyes were closed long enough for her to do it without having to face him.

She knew he wasn’t actually asleep, though. His shoulders were tense and his expression controlled, like he was trying to concentrate. He made purposeful gestures too, like bringing his thumb and index finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighed out. She doubted the tea would really do anything to help him catch some sleep, but it was worth a shot. 

Apparently she was wrong to assume though, because when she crept to his area, his head was thrown back against the seat and his eyes were shut. His jaw was loose and his skin had a soft pink hue. His lips were parted slightly and his chest rose with each deep breath he took. He looked beautiful, mesmeric, when he slept. She wished she were an artist so she could spend all her time studying the details of his face, never mastering it completely but knowing it better than her own. And she’d try to maneuver her brush so as to convey every light, every darkness, every peace, every violence, every line and mark his lovely face captured. But every stroke of the thick acrylic paint would be in vain, because none of them would ever equate to its reference. But she wanted to memorialize him as she watched him quietly, just as she had when she woke up above him. Her remorse only grew as she looked at him; remorse for that morning, for leaving and missing out on those few lingering moments that could’ve been spent in his company, taking in his wonderful face. The kind of face one only sees in the silent time between dawn and day, when everything is beautiful.

_ He’s always beautiful.  _

Everything Ben did in the silence was always beautiful. Rey thought back to the times she had observed him in the past, beyond this last weekend. Beyond the quiet, kind gestures she noticed from him over the past few days. He had consistently been one to pay the rest if someone was short on change, hold the door open for an older person, offer to carry something too heavy when someone was struggling; really, this ‘side’ she saw to him was nothing new— it was who he  _ really _ was. And perhaps that was why she so eagerly  _ wanted _ to hate him. Because she knew that to know him meant knowing someone soft and good-natured, in contrast to the unfriendly, standoffish, condescending side that he guarded himself with. The other side— the real Ben Solo— was the one that was attuned to the secrets of his heart he had begun to show her that night. She always saw a flicker of light in him but it was like lightning, flashing brightly on the horizon all to disappear into the darkness within a blink. 

Or at least, she thought it was a zapping electrical current. But maybe it was something softer. Like the glow of morning light soon to be hidden away behind charcoal storm clouds. It was something she craved, but it never seemed to find her. He hid away when it came to her, and nothing she did could bring him out again before, and for that she wanted to hate him. 

He was always so far away from her, and it was maddening. But now that he had granted her a moment of rapture in his warmth, she knew she never hated him. 

That she  _ could never  _ hate him. And she could never feel anything less than enamored regard for him. A deep craving for his companionship, the feel of his form, the words he spoke— he was milk and honey in her mouth, a salve that could soothe the wounds she hid away from the world. 

Watching him took up the remainder of the trip. As the motion under her feet began to slow down and the overhead speaker began to echo ahead of an announcement, she stole one last glance before slipping back to her seat before he woke up. 

And in that moment, she decided if the opportunity ever arose for her to be able to stay as he awoke, she wouldn’t let it pass her again. 

* * *

Ben wasn’t sure if he slept because he felt relaxed enough to let his mind and body go slack, or if he was just so exhausted he finally collapsed. Either way, he slept relatively well so he decided to just take what he could get. 

It didn’t hurt that the distress he felt over Rey had been eased a bit either. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was that she was apologizing for, and he considered texting her about it but decided to wait until he could catch her alone once they arrived. 

As everyone got up from their seats and went to retrieve their luggage and bags, he scanned the vicinity to see where she was. He knew where she was sitting but there were too many arms reaching overhead for their bags for him to spot her. He didn’t want to sync up with her pace this time but he wanted to be close by so he could create an opportunity to talk.

What he would say, he wasn’t sure. Instinctively, he would decide how to approach the situation— whatever it was— based off of how she responded to him. If her apology was for the way things were handled when they spoke, he would accept it and say nothing more; really, she shouldn’t apologize for feeling the way she does, whether she liked him or not. But then again, she didn’t really ever respond to his admission either way, so he might need to work at drawing out that answer… if she did actually have an answer for him, that is. 

_ Maybe she’s apologizing because she thought about it and doesn’t feel the same,  _ he thought with a grimace. 

_ ‘I’m sorry (the you embarrassed yourself so badly last night)... again (because you never cease to make a fool out of yourself.)’ _

These negative thoughts buzzed in his mind the way a fly hovers over death, just waiting for an opportunity to consume him. And he really did try his best to swat them away, but it seemed as though when he conquered one taunt, another, much louder and more aggressive one rose in its place. 

These taunts had a distinct voice. And no matter how hard he tried to forget it, its cruel hiss was never too far off from his mind. And when he slept, the voice and its face were clearer than ever. 

But if there ever was a time to keep nip that thinking in the bud, it was now. If he wanted to get any control over the turbulence inside, he needed to think clearly.

That proved to be more challenging than anticipated as he followed the crowd leaving the train and his lids felt heavy and mind a tad fuzzy. He closed his eyes and groaned as he made his way out, realizing he shot out of his seat upon waking way too soon. 

This brief moment of recollection created a window of time just long enough for something  _ stupid _ to happpen. 

He had been taking in a sharp breath and running his fingers through his unkempt hair as he strode on, eyes locked ahead on Rey as she stood ahead near the platform entrance with Poe, Finn and Jannah, unaware of the camp-like set up in front of him. Kaydel and Rose had placed their combined lot of five large bags on the ground, and in his dazed, determined state, Ben completely missed them. 

In one breath he was a mere seven feet away from Rey, and the next, he was in a climber-position, palms plastered on the cement as his right foot dragged on behind him, somehow caught between two of the bags.

_ Damn it.  _

And of course everyone saw him as he stumbled and descended down to the ground from the slip. It was the exact sort of thing Ben was completely terrified of having happen to him. 

He knew he shouldn’t be embarrassed and that everyone tripped, but the weight of everyone’s concerned, widened eyes on him and the unanimous gasps that filled his ears were paralyzing. He hated drawing attention to himself, even in small ways. 

So this was kind of a nightmare. 

Everyone paused for a moment as he huffed and began to rise up but then quickly dropped everything and rushed over to him, ready to coddle him like some pathetic child. 

_Pathetic_.

“Are you okay?” The group murmured around him as Poe and Mitaka gripped his elbows to support him as he stood. He knew it was cruel, bitter thinking on his part but he couldn’t help but wince as the two shortest guys around were the ones helping him. It only emphasized how ridiculous he must’ve looked. 

“Yeah, I’m completely fine,” he bit out, trying to hide his distress. Relatively speaking, he thought he was fine. His palms stung a bit from the harsh pavement and his limbs were still shaking from the shock of falling, but once he tried to step forward independently, he realized he wasn’t completely fine.

His right ankle throbbed in pain. Because of course it did. Of course he managed to injure himself in such a humiliating way right when he needed some level of confidence to accomplish what he wanted to accomplish. 

He decided immediately that talking to Rey was completely out of the question tonight. 

He tried to ignore the small crowd the group had formed around him but it was impossible, since they all consumed every inch of his space and spoke over one another, asking him if he was sure he was fine and if he needed to sit down. 

Worst of all, they were all touching him. Ben could handle superficial touches, like handshakes and high fives, greeting and parting hugs, etc. But when it came to everyone grasping his arms and supporting his back and just brushing against him as they surrounded, he was practically crawling out of his skin. 

It was a very unfortunate predicament to be so desperately touch starved and yet abhor the feeling of other people in his personal space. 

He knew everyone meant well and had no idea how dreadfully uncomfortable they were making him, so he tried to hide the scowl and wince that pulled at his expression. He really couldn’t make out any distinct detail of what the scene around him was; his nerves and senses were so elevated, it was all a bit hazy. He felt himself being guided to a bench under the streetlight at the corner, and as he bent to sit, he decided that if he could make one wish in that moment, it would’ve been to be invisible or to be completely alone. 

But he wasn’t alone and wasn’t invisible, and this dawned on him when he felt the light touch of a feminine hand settle in his, thumb rolling against the pad of his palm to soothe the burn from the scratch. 

He knew whose touch that was; it was the only touch in the group that didn’t make him grow numb. 

Rey had sat next to him, her thigh against his as she angled her head toward him as he stared blankly at her hand in his. He was pretty sure everyone was still talking to him and he thought he might be mumbling out generalities like ‘it’s fine,’ and ‘it’s whatever’ in response, but he really hadn’t been mentally present until he felt her. 

Rey’s touch was the only one that was of any comfort. She, unlike everyone else, wasn’t speaking. She was watching him carefully, but she would give him reprieve by averting her eyes every now and then. It was like she was fluent in a language he didn’t know he spoke; she knew him. She saw him. 

“Are you okay?” She finally asked, voice hushed softy. She asked it so casually yet so pointedly, as if no one else had asked him yet. As if she was the only person who saw his quiet pain.

He finally turned to face her. The apples of her cheeks were pink and her eyes were blown. He could practically feel her heartbeat thud rapidly with each careful raise of her shoulders as she breathed slowly, as if merely breathing could undo him. Every look and gesture was by design, an effort to shield and protect him from the overbearing presence of everyone else. 

She was calming him. His breathing relaxed and slowed as hers did, and the dull ache thudding the forefront of his head subsided. 

In an odd sort of nostalgia, he was reminded of when Rey had been fumbling for her ticket when they boarded the train at the start of the weekend and he waited behind until she caught up, and didn’t plan on moving until she was ready. 

This was her way of stopping and waiting for him. 

“Yeah,” he answered softly, breathlessly. He nodded and turned to everyone else, who had stepped back and watched him like he was made of porcelain and was tilting at the edge. “Yeah, sorry, I, uh… I’m good, guys. Sorry. Just, sorta tired and was kinda out of it.”

They nodded and Poe reminded them to begin making their arrangements on ride-sharing apps to get home, inciting the group to act like nothing had happened. But he knew they knew better. Everyone there knew about him. They probably already had an idea, likely through word of mouth from one to another, but if there was any doubt about it, it was surely gone now. They saw him black out and disappear in every way but physical. 

He  _ hated _ how they looked at him. 

How everyone  _ always _ did.

Except for  _ Rey _ . 

He always liked the way Rey looked at him when she did. He would say other mean things to keep her away, like respond cruely when he could, but he could never tell her to turn around.

And that was enough to keep him from telling them to turn around and mind their own damn business. He wanted to lash out. He always did. And normally he didn’t hesitate to be short and rude, because it kept people away. His attitude was enough to deflect any unwanted notice so he could avoid situations like this entirely. 

It never really worked with Rey though, he realized as she continued caressing his hand in hers. His meanness was enough to spur her on, but not completely give up either. She had always been a tenacious little thing, trying to win him over and lashing out when she failed. Little did she know she had always won. He was wrapped around her finger from day one, rendered helpless to her ways. And now he couldn’t fight it— he didn’t  _ want _ to fight it. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly as he begrudgingly slipped his hand away. 

She looked at her hand as his hand retreated before returning his gaze. “Of course.”

“So,” Poe casually strode over with his hands in his pockets. “I’m guessing your ankle’s all screwed up, given the way you hop-scotched to this bench.”

He chuckled. Poe was good. He knew when to deflect and distract whenever Ben got into a certain headspace. He was always good for it. He read him well and did his best to shift the attention elsewhere, allowing Ben to catch his breath before returning. 

“Yeah, it’s, uh,” he looked at his ankle as he shifted it with a pained wince, “it’s not doing so great.”

Poe nodded. “I can see that. You, Finn and I can catch an Uber and maybe tomorrow Finn and I will come get your car.”

He nodded, relieved that Poe had realized he wouldn’t be able to drive and thus saved him from having to ask for assistance. He bent down to get his bag, feeling appreciative of whoever it was that grabbed it for him, but paused when he felt Rey stand up.

“I can drive you and your car home!” She enthusiastically offered. 

“Rey, it’s fine,” he countered. “Cause then how would you get home? It’d be better to take an Uber with everyone else.”

Rey shrugged, swaying from side to side with her hands in her pockets. “I walked here, so either way I wasn’t going to take an Uber.”

Ben’s eyes bulged out and his lips parted. “You  _ walked _ here?! That’s dangerous! Why would you do that?”

He regretted his stern tone, but he couldn’t believe Rey would walk by herself to this part of town, and he was even more appalled that no one had ever thought to stop her. 

“I live nearby,” she said quietly. Her cheeks were slightly puffed out and her lips were pursed as her shoulders narrowed. She looked cold. 

“There’s no reason for you to do that, like at all. I mean, look at the weather now,” he waved his hand out. “It’s  _ freezing _ . It’s gonna rain soon. You can’t be walking alone so late, especially in this weather, even if you do live nearby. And there’s no way in  _ hell _ I’ll let you drive me home and risk the possibility of you walking home from there or taking an Uber all by yourself. Out of the question.”

Rey looked irritated, rolling her eyes and huffing out a cloud of fog against the cold, wet air. “Well, I could drive you home and if you’re comfortable with it, drive myself home and come back with your car tomorrow morning or something.” 

Poe, of course, had been of no help in that moment. He had gone back to everyone else, leaving Ben and Rey to sort this out on their own rather than insisting she secure a safe ride home for herself and let him worry about Ben. 

_ But then again,  _ he reasoned,  _ if I say yes and have her drive me home and bring back the car later, that ensures she won’t be walking home alone… _

“Rey… you really don’t have to, I can figure it out,” he half-heartedly argued, pulling his keys out of his pocket and fidgeting with them in his hand. 

“Ben,” she stepped closer to him, close enough where he could see the different colors in her eyes under the moonlight. “I want to.”

She extended her hand out to him and glanced over to the keys. 

“Give it to me.” 

Ben sighed. 

“Okay.” 

Poe conveniently returned just in time to help Ben with the bags as they made their way to the car. Poe knew how Ben felt about Rey so he probably intentionally left them when he did so Ben would be defenseless and thus more likely to accept Rey’s offer, but it was still annoying nonetheless. 

“Well, see you guys this weekend, I’m guessing?” Poe asked cheerfully after slinging both Ben and Rey’s bags into the backseat of the Lexus. 

“I guess,” Ben shrugged as he stumbled into the passenger’s side. 

“Cool cool. Text when you get home! Catch you two on the flippity-flip,” he waved before walking away. Ben just sighed and rolled his eyes. If Poe thought anything would come of this situation, he was wrong. 

He had to admit it, though. Rey driving his car was not a bad sight. Really, Rey at his side in any scenario was always pleasant to him. 

She turned on the car and waited a moment, allowing it to warm up. She cranked up the heater for both the AC and the seats and brought her hands up to the vents, feeling their warmth against her palms. 

“Knew it,” she chuckled to herself. 

One of his brows rose up. “Knew what?”

She smiled cheekily at him. “That you were the sort of person whose car had the seat warmer things.” 

For some reason, that made him blush. Maybe it was the idea that Rey had thought of him at some point, even if it was meant as some sort of backhanded observation. 

“It came with the car,” he said lamely. 

She shrugged, not breaking her little grin. “Still.”

He ran his hand through his hair and looked out the window at his side. He wanted to talk to her about… well, everything, he guessed, but he didn’t know if this was the right time or place to do it. He didn’t want to put her on the spot or do under the circumstances of her already feeling bad for him, his leg being injured and all. 

She broke through his thoughts by waving the auxiliary wire in the air. “You want to DJ or d’you want me to?”

“Oh. Uh, it’s fine. You can do it. Put on whatever.”

She nodded and plugged her phone in, selecting a song and typing his address in as he told it to her before backing out of the parking lot. 

He liked what she chose. He wasn’t familiar with the artist but the song was something akin to the rest of his taste. It had slow, sharp steel guitar strums that twanged throughout the wistful, breezy hymns and steady, robust drums, creating a jazzy, nostalgic sort of rock sound. The woman singing had a strong, smooth voice. The way she belted out the chorus was powerful, like a plea from the heart. 

_ ‘Please be mine, _

_ Please be mine.’  _

“Who’s this by?” He asked, breaking the silence as they drove on and the song entered its second set of verses. The song had pretty lyrics. 

_ ‘I can feel the days grow cold _

_ Boy I’d love a hand to hold, _

_ Is yours, is yours still for me? For me? _

_ I know I don’t deserve you back, _

_ But I’d really like it like that _

_ Would you? Would you like it too? You do?’ _

“Molly Burch,” Rey answered as she kept her eyes on the road. “The song’s called ‘Please Be Mine’... as you can, well, probably tell from the chorus.”

He nodded, now tapping his fingers on his knee. “It’s nice.”

She gave a small smile but didn’t say anything. The drive to his condominium wasn’t too far, but they had a good ten minutes left. She seemed to be waiting on him to initiate the conversation too, which only added weight to the silence. 

He then remembered the reason why he wanted to talk to her to begin with: her message on the cup. She probably was waiting for him to say something about it as well.

“I uh, liked the tea you made. I mean, I think it was you who made it,” he said carefully as he turned to watch for her expression. “Thank you.”

She kept her eyes on the road, and it came off as intentional beyond driving. “Oh. Yeah. I’m, uh, I’m glad you liked it. I was worried it would be rubbish, considering it was made from whatever I could scavenge at the concession stand.”

He smiled at her, though he doubted she could see it. “It was really nice. Thank you. And even though you don’t seem to think so, it was definitely up there with Naboo milk.”

They had stopped at a red light, allowing for her to face him. Her eyes were wide and they scanned his face, searching for something before speaking. “Oh yeah. I suppose you got the message.”

He nodded, not looking away from her while he had her attention. “Yes.”

She hesitated before turning her eyes back to the road. “Yeah, um… someone once wrote me a message on some food packaging before, actually, so I kinda stole the idea.” 

He huffed out a chuckle. “Product placement, right? Or, in this case, I guess… apology placement?”

She grinned as she continued driving. “Helps when you don’t know how to start a conversation you probably should have.” She paused and moved a loose strand of hair out of her face. She glanced at him. 

“Or restart one you shouldn’t have ended.”

He was sure she could see the lump in his throat as she said that. He had no idea how to respond to that, causing him to realize that it always came back to the same thing with him and Rey: poor communication skills. On his part especially. 

He was about to speak when he realized they were pulling up to his driveway. He wished he lived farther away. 

She didn’t stay and wait for his answer. Instead, she parked the car and got out, heading to the backseat to get his bag. 

“You don’t have to carry it,” he gently admonished as he took it from her, setting the strap on his unaffected side. 

“It’s the least I can do… like Poe said, you’re going to be hop-scotching your way to the door,” she said with a soft laugh. 

He smiled. “It’s not a big deal. Really. You already did more than enough.”

She didn’t say anything else. She just wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging herself as he steadied himself on his left side. 

As he looked at her, he saw that same, distinctive look on her face. The hungry child look. She wanted something from him. She looked smaller than ever. 

It then occurred to him that perhaps she was just standing and staring after he took his bag because she had wanted a reason to follow him inside and continue their conversation. 

_ Way to go.  _

“Uh,” he began cautiously while staring at his feet. “Do, uh… do you wanna come in? Or anything?” 

“Oh. I don’t want to impose or anything. I’m sure you’re tired and want to rest that foot of yours.” 

He paced himself, stopping himself from insisting too eagerly. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. Maybe I can make you some coffee or a snack or something? I could order something and you could stay for dinner. It’s the least I can do since you drove me and everything. Really, Rey. I— I’d like it if you stayed.”

She looked down and tugged her bottom lip between her teeth before looking him in the eye. “Do you mean it?”

He wasn’t sure if her question was regarding his invitation inside or something more. He had a feeling there might be something more, though. But it didn’t matter. Either way, his answer was the same. 

“Yes.” 

She seemed surprised at first, as if it were possible for him to say no to her or not want her. The answer would always be yes. 

He told her she might want to bring in her bag with her, since every now and then the cars in the area got broken into. She handed him the keys and he opened the door for them. 

His condominium was just as clean, simple, and unintentionally minimalist as it had been before he left. Everything was in its right place, untouched and unbothered. It was almost embarrassing to have such a monochromatic, nondescript set up; it was so dull, the fake plants on the windowsill looked like they were near death. 

_ How’s that even possible?  _

He wondered how Rey lived. If her house was messy or neat; if she liked bright colors or soft colors; if she had her walls decorated in art prints or photos of friends. He imagined it would be a reflection of her: lively, bright, warm, and comforting. 

Unlike his: muted, barren, cold, and detached. 

They set their bags off to the side near the living room before sitting on the black suede futon facing the TV. 

He turned it on and flipped through channels, asking Rey if there was anything she wanted to watch. 

“Hmm,” she hummed, reclining against the backrest. “Do you have Netflix or anything?” 

“Yeah, yeah I have a lot of those,” he answered as he switched on his Roku. He handed her the remote. “Put on whatever.”

“Letting me pick the music and the movie? So this is what it’s like to be in Ben Solo’s good graces,” she said playfully as she scrolled through the movies on Netflix. 

He couldn’t help but frown. “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like you weren’t,” he said quietly. 

He thought that she might not have heard him since she continued scrolling without saying anything, but eventually she selected something and put the remote between them, brushing her hair with her hands. 

“I could say the same,” she answered softly. 

The movie started playing quietly in the background. It was some 90s rom com he had never seen. 

‘While You Were Sleeping,’ was written in white cursive over a blue cityscape. 

He held his breath for a moment and then exhaled before replying. “I think a lot of it’s been my fault. So, I mean whatever it was you said sorry for, you didn’t have to. But thanks anyway.”

He meant that sincerely. He realized that his chances with Rey were never good to begin with, and were only made worse by the way he treated her before this past weekend. He had to accept and respect that. Her offer to drive him home was more than what he deserved. It felt nice to be around her, even if she didn’t feel the same way. Being around Rey without feeling how much she hated him was more than enough. He could make do with that. He was determined to do so. 

“I… I might be, like, outgoing and chatty all the time, but when it comes down to it, communication isn’t really my forte either,” she chuckled. He knew she didn’t find any humor in it though. 

“I think you express yourself well,” he said softly without looking at her. She was looking at him, though. 

“Believe me, Ben. I don’t.”

He swallowed and shifted, angling his leg to rest on the ottoman. He wanted to change the subject. While he insisted on accepting rejection, he’d rather not hear it a second time. 

“What should I order for food?”

Her expression faltered a bit, as if he had interrupted her, but she sobered quickly and smiled contently. It didn’t reach her eyes, though. 

“Whatever you want! I’ll eat anything and everything. I love everything, really. I’m not picky.”

He stopped himself from wincing as he realized that probably stemmed from not being given the option to be selective, having grown up in the foster system. He wanted to pick out something special for her, something tasty and new, he decided. 

He opened his food delivery app. “Any allergies or restrictions or…?”

She shook her head. “I can eat it all. And I will!” She taunted playfully.

He laughed with her as he selected their dishes and placed the order. He was very tempted to continue focusing on his phone to ease his nerves, but he knew she wouldn’t like it if he did that. It wasn’t a lack of wanting to be in her company; it never was. It was just a nervous habit, and right now he was very nervous. 

“So what’d you order?” 

“So what’s this movie about?”

Both paused and let out a short laugh, waiting for the other to continue. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” he said. 

“No, you’re fine! Please, go ahead. What were you asking?”

“Oh. Um, I was just asking what this movie’s about. And to answer your question, I got something from this place I like. I don’t know if you’ve had it but it’s called Canto Bites. They have this really great mac & cheese, and I thought that sounded good. Is that okay with you?”

Her lips were parted. “I’ve never been there, it’s way too— uh, far… from where I live. But I’ve heard their food is absolutely fantastic. Mac & cheese sounds amazing right now. Thank you, Ben. How much do I owe you?”

His brows knitted. As if he would have her pay for dinner, especially when he preemptively ordered food from an expensive restaurant. “You don’t owe me anything. If I was mobile I’d cook something, but since I’m on the mend I thought to order in. I’d be doing it anyway, so don’t worry about it.” 

“But I feel bad… it’s expensive.”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t ask you to have dinner with me if I was expecting you to feed yourself,” he responded, not unkindly. 

Her shoulders seemed to relax a bit. “Well, thanks.” 

“Of course. So what’s this movie about?”

She went over the basic synopsis of it. She seemed to be familiar with it but as it went on while they waited for the food, neither of them were paying much attention to it. 

* * *

“And that’s what I keep telling Poe,” Ben laughed. “Waffles, you know, they have their pros, but the cons outweigh them. They’re deceptive cause of all the little dents in them.”

“Exactly!” Rey exclaimed with a clap. “People who think waffles are better than pancakes are the sort of people who dream of becoming social media influencers. It’s all about the clout.” 

His entire face was wrinkled from the hearty laughter. It felt like a unique experience, seeing Ben laugh, but when he did, it was borne from whole-souled joy. She loved the way his eyes would squeeze shut and his smile was so wide it reached the corners of his eyes, exposing his slightly crooked teeth. 

And Rey had to keep herself from thinking so much of it, but she couldn’t help but feel special. Special because she was the one making him laugh and smile like that. That she could evoke such profound happiness out of him just by having these idle, easy conversations about nothing in particular. 

“So you think Poe wants to be a special media influencer, huh?” He asked as he collected some of the noodles onto his fork. 

“I mean,” she went on, pausing so she could chew her mouthful of the gourmet pasta dish. She wanted to close her eyes and savour every bite; it was the most delicious, decadent mac & cheese she ever had. “I could see it. He could totally be an Instagram baddie.” 

Ben actually  _ chortled _ , causing him to cover his mouth with his hand. “A baddie?! What even is that?”

She sighed dramatically as she picked at the buttery breadcrumbs at the end of the baking tin the meal came in. “You don’t wanna know.” 

He shrugged as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “You’re probably right. Is that kind of like what the Kardashians are?”

Now it was Rey’s turn to chortle. “You know the Kardashians?!”

His brows furrowed and he huffed dramatically. “I may act like an old person but I’m not completely ancient, you know. Every now and then I’m aware of what’s popular with the young people.” 

She laughed. “I suppose.”

He must have noticed that she was still shuffling her fork around because he asked if she was still hungry. She wasn’t though, so she told him no before collecting the trash they accumulated to go throw it away. 

“Where’s the rubbish?” She called from the kitchen. 

“Oh, I’ll show you. It’s tricky,” he called back as he tried to stumble up, but she rushed over to stop him. 

“Ben, you can’t be getting up. You need to rest!” She insisted as she placed her hand against his shoulder to anchor him down. 

“Rey, it’s fine. Really, I have to get up and do things on my own eventually anyway. May as well start.”

She frowned. It just occurred to her that he might want her to get going soon.

“Well, I can still do something while I’m here,” she offered in a smaller voice than she intended to use. 

“You’ve done a lot already. More than a lot.”

Sometimes when Ben said things like that, Rey wondered whether or not he meant for her to hear or if they were just candid, loose musings that slipped from his mind and out his mouth. If that was the case, he seemed to slip a lot when she was around. 

“I haven’t done anything,” she countered. “I’ve borrowed your car, essentially, and came over, camped out in your space, and ate a bunch of delicious pasta. I’m actually unsure if there’s been any benefit or good for you in this situation.” 

He hesitated, as if he were debating whether or not to speak. She had begun to make her way back to the kitchen to find the trash can when she heard his voice, almost as quiet as a whisper. 

“Having you around is nice.  _ You’re _ good for me.”

She stopped and turned around. He was looking at his hands as they rested limply on his knees. 

“Pardon? What did you say?”

He swallowed and his lips parted and closed a few times before he answered. “Nothing. Sorry, just… I was just… I don’t know. I’m tired I guess. Sorry, just rambling.”

“Oh.”

Her heart sank, just as it always did whenever she thought she heard Ben say something only to be persuaded that she misheard. It made her think that if Ben really did say what he said, he probably didn’t mean it since he regretted saying it out loud. She figured the same reasoning applied in regard to what he had said last night, about how he felt. He didn’t bring it up again, though she  _ so _ wanted him to when he mentioned her apology to him. But she didn’t want to push it. She didn’t want to push  _ him _ any more than she already had. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t get on her knees and beg—  _ plead— _ for him to  _ please please please _ love her. She couldn’t accept his pity; she was too selfish, she wanted something real from him, even if it wasn’t him in his entirety. So if this was as close to him Ben would have her, she would take it. She would have him in his purest form in any capacity, she realized; she decided that this would have to be enough, because if she kept pushing for more, she would be left with nothing. She craved Ben, in the most basic, essential sense. And if this was all he could give, she would cherish it. Wholly or in pieces— sharp edges and all. 

“The trash can’s under the sink, in the third to last cabinet toward the right, by the way.”

  
  


She bit her lip and nodded, willing the tug at her chest to subside. “Right.”

She found the trash can and threw everything away, then washed her hands at the sink. She would straighten up a bit before she left. The movie was still playing in the background, but it was almost over anyway. 

She inspected the area to see what there was to be done, but Ben’s place was exceptionally spick and span. It looked like something out of a minimalist-themed decor catalogue; everything was symmetrical and done in inky grays, crisp whites, and sharp black. There were only a few pieces of furniture and a couple of generic black and white nature photographs that decorated the walls. It reminded her of the photos that were among the tapestries and art prints at the cabin; she wondered if they were from the same photographer. 

_ Maybe they mean something to him. _

  
  


She glanced at the clock on the wall; it was close to 9. It was clear that she could easily spend hours in Ben’s company and not notice the time fleeting away. She found herself getting used to how easy everything seemed when they were together.

It was raining outside. She kept her eyes trained on the window in front of the sink, watching the streaks of water roll down the glass. She wasn’t looking forward to the drive home; it was the getting home part she dreaded most, though. Remembering that she would be going back to her shoddy, cluttered apartment on the bad side of town and would be alone again caused physical pain in her chest. It was painful because she now knew how it felt to be known and seen. 

And, of course, it would be storming tonight. Nights blackened by storm clouds, silence filled with thunder, and the intrusive flashes of light were the worst nights for her. 

She didn’t know how long she was standing there, but it was long enough for Ben to notice and stumble his way over to the kitchen to see what was going on.

“Are you okay, Rey?”

She snapped out of it and nodded briskly. “Yeah. Yeah, no, I’m good. Sorry.”

He shook his head with a shrug and pursed his lips. “No, it’s alright. Just checking.”

“I uh,” Rey began, wrapping her hand over her elbow behind her back, “I probably should be leaving.”

Ben paused and watched her for a moment before speaking, as if he were unsure of what to say. “Yeah, yeah you’re probably right. It’s late and I don’t want to keep you up longer.”

She nodded and sucked in her lips. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting him to say... or rather, what she had  _ hoped _ he would say. 

“Right. Yeah. I, uh, guess I’ll be going, then. Thank you for dinner, Ben. I’ll drop by early tomorrow and leave the keys. I’ll text you when I do it but don’t worry about getting up or anything, seeing as I can let myself in,” she chuckled lightly while jiggling the keys in her hands.

He was nodding slowly with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. She felt bad for lingering and thus making him stand up, so she began making her way toward the living room entrance to pick up her bag. 

She was just about to bid him a final goodnight when he spoke up again.

“Rey.”

She turned around, body alight with unfounded hope. “Yes?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked all around, avoiding her eye. “I uh, I actually have a guest room here. I never use it, but it’s furnished and everything. My mom’s an interior designer so she’s big on that sort of thing. Anyway, it’s late and it’s raining and I know the roads can be kinda rough like that. And you’d have to drive all the way over here in the morning, which is also rough. Do you... would you... um,” he was really struggling. “If you wanted to, you can just crash here tonight. If you want. But, you know, no pressure or anything.” 

She answered sooner than she meant to. 

“Okay.”

His expression lightened and he gestured to her to follow him. He seemed pleased. She smiled as she trailed behind him as he led her to the guest room.

“If you need or want anything, just text me or feel free to do whatever. The guest room has its own restroom and everything, and there are spare blankets in the closet.”

She nodded softly, holding onto her grin. “Thank you, Ben.”

He just smiled back and stumbled out of the room, but stopped briefly at the doorway. 

“Goodnight, Rey.”

“Goodnight, Ben. See you in the morning.”

And with that, he closed the door with a gentle hand behind. The sound of the door shutting wasn’t jarring and stark the way it was the last time he did it. Its echo was soft and delicate, clicking with the promise of return. As if to say he would come back for her. That he’d still be there when she got up. And she would be there too, when he got up. 

Based off of how much lighter her shoulders felt and the sudden release of a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, she realized that perhaps that this was what she was hoping he would say before she managed to leave. 

That he would somehow say to her that he did want her to stay, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took way longer with this chapter than I meant for it to! It took on a life of its own and became a 20K chapter... so I’ve broken it up into two smaller ones. Sorry guys!!! But I left it on a positive note this time so don’t worry ;) I will be posting the rest of it this weekend!!! Love you guys and thanks for your sweetness, I continue rereading each and every comment and screenshotting them so i can go over them 24/7. Love you guys!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after. And the night after. Calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter was almost solely inspired by Never Gonna Leave This Bed by Maroon 5, DONT COME FOR ME PLS)
> 
> Enjoy <3

Ben had finally managed to slip into a shallow level of sleep around 6 AM, allowing him to rest an hour before he had to get up for work. It was the kind where the senses slow down and thoughts float to the surface, but the mind and body are not totally resigned to slumber yet. The restless kind of sleep, where the bed only felt comfortable for a few moments at a time and thus called for a shift in position and an ache begins to form in the crook of the neck. It wasn’t a very satisfying state to be in, but he would take it so long as remained discreet and not react to any night terrors that may come upon him.

He had almost fallen asleep last night but he was awoken by the sound of Rey leaving the room next to his. Naturally, he wrongfully assumed she was leaving and went to see, but she was only going to the kitchen or something. He was embarrassed and struggled to calm down after, only just succumbing to his exhaustion in the early morning.

The hour went on and on without disturbance as the rain thudded lightly against his window. He may have even eventually fallen asleep in full, but the sound of the smoke alarm jilted him up in a panic.

_Did I leave the stove on?_

_Wait, no, I didn’t cook..._

_Was there a candle burning?_

_Wait I don’t own any candles..._

_The fireplace??_

_No, I didn’t use the fireplace..._

He had forgotten about his ankle and was reminded of it as he put his weight on his right side, springing up into action to see what was happening. Immediately he felt a shooting pain striking right through his bones, causing him to stop in his tracks and bend down to rub the pain.

_Damn it._

The alarm didn’t cease in its repetitive beeping and as he sprinted closer to the kitchen, he saw a thin layer of smoke flowing out from the kitchen and his nose was then filled with the stench of something burning.

_Smells kinda like bread... but on fire..._

And then, among the shrill beeping of the alarm, he heard a series of angry huffs and hisses, as well as a slew of colorful profanities coming from a lovely voice.

_Rey._

_She stayed the night last night._

_She didn’t leave._

_And is still here now._

_She’s here._

_She’s in my kitchen._

His realization was affirmed when he saw the girl standing in his kitchen, wearing an oversized T shirt and a little pair of shorts with knee socks, flailing out a rag in the air and rushing to open a window. Her hair was in a big pile on her head, some of which was slipping out of the updo and hanging in random curls around her face. Her nose was pinched in frustration and eyes wide with panic, clearly oblivious to Ben’s sudden presence.

He had no idea what she was doing or what happened; it probably wasn’t good, based off of the burning smell and mini disaster zone that had become his kitchen, but he didn’t really care. He couldn’t help but steal a moment to watch Rey and admire the sight of her in his space. It was like capturing lightning in a bottle.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Rey?”

She paused and turned to face him, and her face became even paler in panic.

“Oh god, Ben. Ugh, I’m— I’m so sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen,” she groaned and covered her forehead with a hand. “This was supposed to be nice!”

His brow went up as he tried to understand what she could possibly be talking about. He was still in the beginning stages of waking up, despite not having slept well or for very long, as well as still trying to process how Rey— my Rey, he initially thought before correcting himself— was actually at his place and had been there the entire night. It really was the sort of thing only dreams were made of.

“What? What do you mean?” He asked.

She sighed, still fanning out the smoke. “Well, I was trying to surprise you by making breakfast, but then it all went to bloody hell,” she whined and pouted.

He couldn’t help but laugh. Sincerely laugh. Not at her efforts and intentions, but because she looked so sweet and adorable. She sort of reminded him of that meme, where the little boy is on Gordon Ramsey’s cooking show whose potatoes were going wrong. The way her brows were knit and lips puckered into a frown made her little pink cheeks puff out. He then realized there might be a part of him that enjoyed antagonizing her just so he could see this expression. He’d do anything to walk over to her, cup her face in his hands and kiss her.

“Don’t laugh at me!” She snapped, stomping her foot and crossing her arms. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, I was trying to do something nice and— Ugh! I knew this was stupid, I knew you’d think I was dumb and I knew I’d screw it all up cause I can’t cook and I don’t know how to make pancakes, and—“

She stopped her rant when he stepped over and pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up against his chest. He just had to stop her. He had to. He hated the thought that she would feel like he was making fun of her or think that she was anything less than _precious_ — or that she would think that of herself.

“Shut up,” he murmured he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her against him.

She huffed and then hummed against his chest. “Don’t tell me to shut up, Solo.”

He rolled his eyes, unable to bite back a smile. “I will if you say something silly.”

“This whole cooking flop was silly,” she whined, her words coming out muffled as she pushed her forehead further into him. Thankfully the alarm had stopped ringing so he was able to hear her.

He begrudgingly pulled away. He tried not to smile too brightly at her; he didn’t want her to think he was still laughing.

“You didn’t have to do it. But I appreciate that you did,” he said softly as she met his eye.

She took a moment before looking away, shaking her head as if to come to. She shrugged. “Well, I figure it was the least I could do since you bought me some gourmet mac & cheese and let me stay over.”

_Oh._

“I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

She rubbed her arm with her other hand and gave him a half-smile while looking at him from under her lashes. “Well, maybe I did this cause I wanted to.”

Neither spoke for a moment as they stood across from each other and scanned the room. Ben was leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen, supporting himself so as not to stand on his right leg while Rey had her arms crossed and was leaning against the stove, facing him.

“What time is it, by the way?” He asked.

She reached over and grabbed her phone off the counter top. “Ten.”

His eyes bugged out. “Ten?! How’d my alarm not go off?! And— damn it, and work, I—,” he began scrambling around in a tizzy, unsure of where to even start. He was supposed to be in the office an hour ago.

Rey reached over and put a light hand on his shoulder, stopping him from sprinting to his room to get ready. “Ben. Calm down. It’s fine.”

His brows knitted together. “What?”

She smiled at him reassuringly. “First of all, you left your phone out here I think. It started going off at seven and I came in to shut it off. And second, I called Armitage last night and he said not to worry about coming in, he’d tell your boss you were sick.”

He paused, unable to grasp what she was telling him. “Why would you do that?” He asked, not in an accusatory way.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I felt bad, and I wanted you to get some rest. Didn’t want you to hurt your leg any more than it already is. I was thinking, maybe I could take you to urgent care later or something?”

Ben still needed a moment to process what Rey was telling him, because he had never been considered like that before. Sure, people did nice things for him every now and then, but there was meaning in Rey’s eyes as she spoke to him.

“Oh. Um...,” he trailed off, mind slipping off track. “Um... I think it’s okay. My ankle’s been busted up before, so I don’t think I need to see the doctor. But thank you.”

She gave him a nod and turned away to begin scraping off chards of burnt batter off one of his pans, using a spatula. He watched as the blackish crumbles fell down the sink as Rey chipped at them, but then he remembered something.

“Hey wait,” he started, causing her to turn her attention back to him. “What about you? Don’t you have work?” He remembered that she worked as a receptionist at the same place Poe worked.

Her expression was soft and she bit her lip. “Technically yes, but I took the day off. I actually was going to ask if maybe you wanted me to stay over today...” She then hesitated and stammered, seemingly upon realizing herself. “To help you around the house, I mean. Since you’re out of commission and all. But if not I totally understand and I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I clean up the kitchen.”

His brows knitted together. He couldn’t think of anything he really needed her help with. He planned to sit on his sofa and read a little, watch a documentary or two, maybe order in for dinner and have a nightcap before bed.

_‘If maybe you wanted me to stay over today...’_

The lightbulb in his head then lit up.

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, um, if you want that would be really nice. I mean, if you don’t have anything else you have to do today, I mean.”

Her face lit up with one of her radiant smiles. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, sounds brilliant.”

* * *

Once the kitchen was cleaned, Rey rejoined Ben on his sofa as he sent out an order for breakfast. It was a Denver omelette for him with a side of classic pancakes, and a combo plate of eggs, bacon, and cinnamon pancakes.

“I’ll make coffee. I swear, Ben!” She put her hand out to stop him as he tried to stand up with a smirk on his face. “This I can do.”

He playfully rolled his eyes as she made her way to the kitchen. “We’ll see about that. Just be careful, sweetheart.”

_Sweetheart._

She couldn’t help but feel a swarm of butterflies flutter in her belly upon being called that by him. She didn’t _like_ the sound of it— she _loved_ the sound of it. Even though it scared her.

She stopped and began walking back to him with folded arms and a quirked eyebrow. “‘ _Sweetheart_ ,’ eh? I’m your sweetheart, Ben?”

His eyes widened and his lips parted as he struggled to find words. “I— I didn’t— I didn’t mean, it like—“

She smirked and gently patted his shoulder before he tried getting up again. “Whatever you say, _baby_.”

Whatever embarrassment or dread that might have come from her bold word choice was subdued by the pleasure of seeing the bright blush on Ben’s face.

She found it easy to lose her inhibitions and drop her guard around him; he was disarming, though she was still usure of whether that was a good thing or not. Her feelings were so turbulent, changing like the weather.

It hadn’t stormed the night before, despite the promise of it. It had only sprinkled lightly; at one point during the night she was mere inches away from the keys left atop the counter, deciding it was clear enough to go home. She was so close to making a run for it, having spent the first hour in the guest room convincing herself that she didn’t belong there, that Ben was only being polite and didn’t really mean for her to take him up on his offer, and both would sleep better if she left.

She had even made it out of her room when she was stopped by the sound of another door opening.

She wasn’t sure if Ben was just a light sleeper or hadn’t gone to sleep at all yet, but his door creaked open and half of his body inched out of the doorway. His hair was messy, as it was whenever he mindlessly played with it, and his eyelids began to hang heavy with tiredness.

“Rey?” He asked, voice hoarse with exhaustion.

He didn’t look irritated, as one might look upon being woken up by a noisy guest. He sort of reminded her of a child, following his parent to bed once they leave his side and leave him to fend for himself in the company of the monster under his bed. All he was missing was the soft, fuzzy blue blanket clenched in one hand, and a droopy teddy bear hanging in the other. If not a teddy bear in the other hand, his thumb stuck in his mouth.

Any thought of leaving was immediately out the door as soon as she saw him. He looked vulnerable. Innocent. Lovely. Like he needed her. In one word, her name, he said everything. He silenced her doubt, confirming her hope one last time: that he _did_ want her to stay.

So she said she was going to get a glass of water and returned with one in each hand; one for her, one for him. She didn’t leave the guest room anymore after that.

* * *

Ben really didn’t mind that Rey had no idea how to work a kitchen, let alone cook anything.

She meant it when she said she was a skilled barista. The vanilla cappuccinos she made were perfect. But even if she didn’t know how to make coffee, it was fine. If she didn’t know how to cook or make coffee, he would be perfectly content being the live-in chef/barista for them. And if he didn’t know how to do that— or, like in the current state he was in, couldn’t do that— he would happily order in for them. Anytime, whatever she wanted.

Rey really wasn’t picky, but Ben was still preoccupied about her food choices. Not in way of criticizing her diet, but that she wouldn’t speak up and tell him exactly what she wanted to eat and how much. He wanted her to feel comfortable and to take whatever he could offer her. As long as he could, he would provide for her. Providing for Rey was a lifestyle he saw himself very easily slipping into without complaint. He liked the idea of taking care of her. Anticipating her needs and preferences and being proactive about it. He wanted to give her the best of everything, something he knew she never had before.

Rey was humble, too. Modest. He knew she wasn’t the kind who’d ask for much; in fact, too much of anything might make her uneasy. He could tell she was more relaxed than he was, in just about every way. He wished he could be that way. Feel comfortable in his own skin, and see the light at the end of the tunnel.

But Ben wasn’t like that. He was struck with tunnel vision. He couldn’t get a grip on anything, it seemed like. To Ben, it felt like he was constantly grasping at straws, trying his best to hold onto any semblance of control he could get. But he’d always fail. He was always on the edge, finding himself there because he pushed himself to his limits.

But he didn’t feel like that with Rey. He didn’t feel like he was out of his reach or boundaries. Everything felt easy with Rey. Like she was a breath of fresh air, enough for the both of them to take in. Life felt slower, kinder. Like Rey was an anchor, balancing him seamlessly, planting his feet on the ground firmly.

Even now, as they were both comfortably spread on his sofa. It was a futon so Rey decided she wanted to spread it out so they could both recline, but especially for the sake of Ben’s leg. She buzzed around like a determined honeybee, zipping from room to room as she collected armfuls of pillows and sheets for the mini hive she was designing.

By the time she was done setting everything up as Ben watched in amazement from one of the armchairs, she had created a nest of sorts. Sheets draped from one tall lamp to the other on each side of the couch, creating an airy canopy. And from that, she found his coat stand and another tall lamp, and built on her already impressive overhead design. Within the cocoon, she situated each side of the mattress with fluffy pillows, nestling them together to create a cozy space. She had a few extra pillows to prop his leg up, too.

She created a _fort_. _A pillow fort_ ; it was a creation mended from the blueprints of his childhood dreams. It was something that would make him feel safe.

She threw her arms out, as if she were presenting something to him. “Ta-da!”

He wanted to stumble toward her and hug her again. He’d like to kiss her forehead, too. He yearned to do that. But he decided not to. He somehow had gotten away with the hug in the kitchen earlier, as well as that stupid ‘sweetheart’ slip, so he didn’t want to push it.

Instead, he hobbled over as she supported his side, and beamed at her handiwork before turning to beam at her.

“I’m impressed.”

She blushed and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She still had her hair in the messy buns.

“Thanks.”

He kept smiling at her. “What prompted you to do this? I really like it.”

“I’m glad. I thought it’d be fun and cozy, I don’t know. Something different. You don’t look like the pillow fort sort of person, Solo,” she teased, gently smacking his unaffected side. “So I thought it’d be fun to make one of these.”

He smirked. “Am I really that uptight?”

She gave him a mischievous grin and shrug before burrowing inside before he followed. For once, he felt like he could laugh at himself. He didn’t feel the usual urge to defend himself or read into anything. He liked feeling that way.

It was a tight fit, but he wasn’t complaining by any means. His and her arms rested against each other, but it was still comfy. She helped him settle in before she let out a small gasp, as if she had remembered something.

Before he could ask what, she crawled out.

_Where’s she going?_

She’s not gonna leave, right? No, why would she make this if she was just gonna leave?

Even so, he couldn’t help but call out to her.

“Rey? Where’d you go?” He did his best to sound relaxed, even though his heart began racing and his position felt stiff.

It only took a few seconds for her to come back, crawling in like a little goblin would a cave. In her arms, she had a small pile of books.

Into The Wild by Jon Krakauer, Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes, Duel by Richard Matheson, and the first three Chronicles of Narnia books by C.S. Lewis. She also had his iPad and a box of cookies and chips he didn’t even know he had.

_How’d she collect all that in such a short amount of time?_

“I brought provisions,” she explained with a triumphant smile as she laid out her haul. “Biscuits and crisps, books, and I saw your tablet and thought to bring it in case you wanted to listen to music or watch a film instead.”

His lips parted and his pupils were blown. She was an enigma.

Before he could speak, she hissed and pressed her palm against her forehead. “Damn it. I forgot drinks! Do you want water, tea, coffee?” She asked as she began backing out of the fort.

He gently reached for one of the wrists she was propped up on and tugged her back to him.

“Rey. This is perfect. More than enough. If you want something to drink, feel free but don’t get up on my account. This is...,” he looked at the spread and then back to her, “amazing. Perfect. I love it.”

She beamed at him; it was in the quiet way, as if he told her she was beautiful and she somehow didn’t already know it.

_Maybe she isn’t used to praise._

_Am I coming on too strong?_

_She deserves every good thing to be said to her._

“Thanks. In that case, um,” she moved around the small space as if she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She was trying to avoid meeting his eye. “I suppose we can just relax for a bit, then? Rest up your leg? Unless you had something else to do, I mean.”

He immediately shook his head, keeping his eyes focused on her. “Nope. And even if I did, I’d still be here doing this. With you.”

* * *

Hours passed. The soft rhythm of rain patting against the windows filled the air, complimenting the easy, comfortable silence Rey and Ben found themselves in.

They had been reading together, comfortably leaning against the other from side to side as they read. They both wanted to read _The Chronicles of Narnia_ , so they challenged the other to see if they could keep up and share the same book. Thankfully, they both took their time with each page.

That, or Ben was pretending he read a bit slower than he actually did, so as to allow Rey to catch up. He didn’t seem to mind, though. He seemed to be happy just sitting there, sharing the same book and relishing the same passages with her. It was sharing and existing in the same moment in the most unified sense. As if they were two that were one.

He let her turn the pages. Whenever the other had a comment or thought, they quietly shared it. They would engage in those small yet insightful observations. She had read the book dozens of times before, but sharing it with someone else provided an added layer of enjoyment.

By the time they were on the second book, _Prince Caspian: The Return to Narnia,_ they thought it’d be fun to take turns reading aloud.

“‘ _Now began the happiest times that Caspian had ever known. On a fine summer morning when the dew lay on the grass he set off with the Badger and the two Dwarfs, up though the forest to a high saddle in the mountains and down on to their sunny southern slopes where one looked across the green worlds of Archenland,’_ ” Ben read, smiling with fondness as he read the description of the summer morning, as if he had also been where Caspian now found himself.

_Perhaps as Archeland is to Caspian, Yosemite is to Ben._

“Read this next line,” Rey requested, propping her head on his shoulder and looking up at him through her lashes. She pouted her lips in hopes that would also endear her to him.

“Why?” He groaned playfully.

“I want to hear you say ‘Bulgy Bears,’” she grinned.

He sighed dramatically and bit back a smile. “Do I have to read it in a British accent?”

She batted her lashes. “I would like it if you did.”

“Fine,” he sighed out.

“‘ _We will go first to the Three Bulgy Bears,’ said Trumpkin_.’” Ben read in a comedically poor British accent. It came out as a mumble, and the ends of his words were pronounced as if his tongue was ticklish when he spoke. Rey couldn’t help but crack up, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder.

She saw the tips of his ears turn pink, as well as his cheeks. “Hey, you said you wanted to hear it, so...”

“I did. And I _very much_ enjoyed it. So thank you,” she winked.

His tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, once again in effort to conceal a smile. “Your turn.”

She cleared her throat. “‘ _They came in a glade to an old hollow oak tree covered with moss, and Trufflehunter tapped with his paw three times on the trunk and there was no answer. Then he tapped again and a woolly sort of voice from inside said_ —‘,”

She paused and turned to Ben again, who had already been looking at her before turning his gaze back to the pages.

“‘Woolly voice’— I should’ve had you read this instead. Though I also found great delight in hearing you say ‘Trumpkin,’” she commented before returning to her reading.

She cleared her throat again and wiggled her shoulders, as if that’d help her sound more ‘woolly.’ “‘ _Go away. It’s not time to get up yet.’ But when he tapped the third time there was a noice like a small earthquake from inside and a sort of door opened and out came three brown bears, very bulgy indeed and blinking their little eyes,_ ’” Rey paused to turn to Ben again, and made an emphatic show of blinking her eyes as she imagined the bulgy bears did.

“‘ _And when everything had been explained to them (which took a long time because they were so sleepy) they said, just as Trufflehunter had said, that a son of Adam ought to be King of Narnia and all kissed Caspian— very wet, snuggly kissed they were— and offered him some honey._ ’”

Without thinking, Rey puckered her lips and kissed the air next to Ben’s ear, as well as sniffled as she thought the bears would.

His ears and cheeks were pink before, but now they were _red_.

Before mortification could take over, she resumed her reading.

“‘ _Caspian did not really want honey, without bread, at that time in the morning, but he thought it polite to accept. It took him a long time afterwards to get unsticky._ ’”

Ben asked her to read the next few passages. “I like hearing your voice.”

Once she was passed the next three pages, nearing chapter seven, she noticed Ben’s eyes were dropping, eyes only open between long, restful blinks. He looked relaxed, finally.

Relaxed Ben was a lovely sight, one she wished she could see more.

Daring to be bold, she ran her fingers through his hair.

She knew he was awake, so when he shifted and rubbed his eyes as he settled back up, she didn’t know why she was startled.

The corners of his mouth stretched into a sleepy smile. “My turn?” He asked, slightly groggy.

She smiled at him, devouring and savoring the beautiful sight of his face before shaking her head. “No.”

He nodded lazily, dipping his head back against one of the numerous pillows she set up for him. He wiped his face with his hands. “I should bathe. I was too tired to do it last night and I got distracted this morning. Do you mind dog-earring the page while I take a shower and then we can keep reading? Unless you’re tired or something.”

He hesitated when he said the last sentence, as if he were afraid she would use it as an excuse to leave.

She glanced over to his leg, propped up by three fluffy pillows. His ankle peaked out between his sweatpants and socks; it looked swollen.

She then got an idea.

“Can I draw you a bath?”

* * *

Ben didn’t know how he ended up agreeing for Rey to bathe him. He really didn’t need her assistance; maybe getting into the tub or something so as to avoid slipping, but he wasn’t completely immobile.

Regardless, it seemed to be an appealing idea to her and that’s what counted. He convinced himself that she must be having a somewhat okay time in his company since she found a reason to keep hanging around.

He wasn’t sure if he ought to extend the invitation to stay another night or wait for her to bring it up. He didn’t want to ruin whatever it was they had going by drowning out any allure with the depths of his insecurities. His neediness.

Rey was like a butterfly. Like one of the glorious Blue Morphos he and Han would watch as the spring sky overhead turned cobalt blue from the flutter of their wings.

_‘I wish I could keep one,’ he lamented to his father, voice still soft and high from boyhood._

_Han smirked. ‘Well, ya could, but it wouldn’t be a good life for the butterfly, kid.’_

_He scrunched his nose, always a bit too large for his slim face. ‘Why?’_

_Han adjusted the trucker-style cap he always wore during hikes. ‘Well, people like to memorialize butterflies. They do all sorts of mumbo jumbo to them to embalm them. And then the butterfly dies. It’s still just as beautiful as it was when it was alive, but there’s something sad about the confines of a glass case. Butterflies don’t look quite right being stuck there.’_

_Naturally, he was horrified by the idea of someone killing a butterfly and keeping it in a glass case. Why would anyone do that? He shared his grief with his father, demanding that such a thing should be outlawed._

_Han just chuckled kindly and ruffled his mop of thick, raven hair. ‘To each their own, kid. I don’t see the appeal, seems like you don’t either. Butterflies are more beautiful when they’re free.’_

_A swarm flew close by as han leaned in and whispered, eyes fixed ahead on the blue frenzy overhead. ‘And sometimes, if you’re lucky, they come to you. They share their beauty with you. You don’t have to trap the things that are meant to stay.’_

_And as if his father had planned this moment and staged the scene as a literal display of his meaning, he gently reached for Ben’s little hand and held it out into the air ahead, keeping him steady and posed._

_It was a particularly stunning butterfly with wings so blue and crisp, they shimmered against the light that trickled in among the tall trees. Its wings created the most subtle wave of air as it settled down._

_The butterfly came to him, finding refuge on the back of his hand. And Ben didn’t have to trap it make it stay._

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a knock on the door separating his bedroom and the adjoining restroom.

“It’s ready!” Rey called to him.

He chose to stay in his boxers until Rey left the restroom and use the adjoining shower to clean off after. She asked him to wait for her to prepare the tub, telling him it was going to be a ‘surprise.’ He had no idea what that meant, but he figured it must be something somewhat elaborate since she skipped in and out of the room, making multiple trips from the kitchen and back. She warmed up a cotton washcloth and told him to use it to cover his eyes until she was done, which he found to be quite relaxing.

“Alright, I’m ready,” he called back to her. Even though he could get around on his own, it was nice to have the added support of another person helping him out. Usually she would be at his left side, helping him maintain his balance as he shifted his weight onto it.

She helped him walk to the restroom across the way, smiling to herself in anticipation of revealing her surprise to him. She seemed to be pleased with herself, causing a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. Her nose crinkled and her brows furrowed slightly as her lips curled; the infinite number of freckles that dusted her face collected like a constellation when she smiled.

He wished he could kiss each one.

She freed one arm that had been wrapped around his arm to display her preparation. “It ain’t much, but it’s honest work,” she teased.

He had never seen his restroom look so... appealing. Aesthetically pleasing. Intimate, inviting, even.

The small window at the back of the room provided scarce natural light, since the mid-afternoon charcoal clouds began rolling in and obscured any sunshine. Every free space in the room was covered by various products and candles, including the sink top, pesky little decorative tables his mother insisted he needed, and the marble shelves level to his vintage claw footed bathtub.

He only vaguely remembered owning that many candles and products. His mother was part of some sort of spa club and sent the products she and his dad didn’t want, which was plentiful. He also had his own steady collection of grooming supplies, but there were a few unfamiliar elements in the room as he looked around once more.

There was a little black jar near the tub, as well as a bowl of something— salt, maybe? It had little colorful bits in it though, so he wasn’t entirely sure. There was also a tea strainer and two disposable coffee cups from his kitchen. In addition to that, there was also an inexplicable amount of empty milk jugs near the trash can. He didn’t know he had that much milk.

Everything smelled really nice. Soft florals and soothing herbs, like lavender. He thought it was coming from the candles but then remembered the candles were odorless.

Rey brought him closer to the tub. The inside of the tub was almost too pretty to disturb.

The water was opaque, mixed with milk. Lavender sprigs, chamomile flowers, and rose petals floated through the water; the dashing of color from flower petals contrasted against the white, reminding him of an opal stone.

He raised his brow and put his hand on his chest. “This is for me?”

Rey blushed and her lips parted and pressed together as she looked down and moved her wisps behind her ear.

“Um, yeah. I mean, if you like it. I had read that epsom salt and certain herbs are good for you when you’re injured, and the milk is supposed to ease tension and overall soothe. And I saw you have some very nice bathing products, I didn’t know if it was okay to use them or not but I put them out if you wanted to use them.”

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t understand why Rey would do something so nice and thoughtful for him. Whenever good things happened to Ben, the happiness that came from it was often outweighed by anxiety; the feeling of waiting in the calm before the storm. He avoided allowing himself to feel secure and at peace for too long, because he knew his world would be interrupted at any given time; usually by his own doing. He made himself uneasy. It was the same unease one feels after an earthquake— the waiting afterwards, anticipating the aftershocks or perhaps one bigger than the first.

But he wanted to accept this. He was constantly too afraid to be happy. To be pleased with something. His fears and emotions controlled him ruthlessly. He could never win.

And Rey was everything he wanted. She made him happy. And she was there, standing right in front of him, offering him something— what it meant, he wasn’t sure, but it was something nonetheless. He wanted to let himself hold onto it. And even though it was a small thing, it was a place to start; by allowing himself to enjoy this and bask in her company, he was on the precipice of taking control back.

“It’s perfect,” he said quietly, darkly. His voice was huskier than he meant it to be, having forced it out in his act of defiance against his own mind. He brought his hand to her face, daring himself to be bold and gently rest his fingers under her chin and swipe his thumb along her jaw. “Thank you.”

Her pupils were blown and there was just barely a trace of a tremble coursing through her. She nodded and bit her lip; she was nervous, he thought. He couldn’t believe how nervous she looked, let alone what caused it. Worried, he removed his hand despite wanting to linger.

Her head swayed slightly, as if still seeking his touch before she caught herself.

“Don’t mention it,” she breathed out.

It was one of the few fond memories Rey had of being a child, if her younger years could even be considered a childhood.

Bubble baths seemed juvenile and rare nowadays, and maybe that’s what she liked about them. Being coddled in a pool of warm water that smelled of sweet things. One foster parent she had, an older woman named Maz, let her take baths on Sundays. She’d buy her those Sesame Street bubble bath soaps to create a tub full of bubbles, even though she didn’t have a lot of extra money to buy it with. She even gave Rey a little rubber duck; it was orange and white and made a funny sound when it squeaked. She called it ‘Bee Bee,’ meaning to say ‘baby.’ Maz would run her slim, wrinkled fingers along her scalp, carefully and soothingly scrubbing her hair with a soap that smelled soft, like oatmeal. Maz would hum ‘You Are My Sunshine’ by Johnny Cash as she washed her. The last bath Maz gave her was a bath made of milk and honey.

It was a happy memory that had the opposite affect of what a happy memory should have; whenever she usually thought of it, it made her sad. Angry. Because as nice and caring Maz seemed to be, it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t enough to keep her. For Maz to stay.

Maz got sick and sent Rey back. She broke the news on a Monday, after her Sunday bath. She told her she didn’t want her to be around for the stages of sickness to come; that she couldn’t provide Rey with the ‘upbringing she deserved.’ But as a little child, how could Rey even begin to understand that? She didn’t know what any of that meant. As far as Rey knew, Maz was outrightly telling her that having her around would be a burden; the idea of not being able to provide for her was just an excuse, a gentle way of saying ‘you’re too much of a burden, so I’m sending you back.’ As a 23 year old woman, Rey was only beginning to understand that maybe this wasn’t an entirely selfish thing for the older woman to have said; in fact, it was probably the most responsible, selfless thing she could’ve said. But there was still a small part of Rey that, to this day, insisted that she should’ve let her stay. That they would’ve taken care of each other for as long as they could— make it work somehow. And so that small part of Rey still hadn’t forgiven her.

But she began to feel like maybe she could. One day.

She would, in some way, pay it forward. Express the remorse she began to feel over the perceived abandonment and resentment she felt for the woman by honoring a silent promise she had made to herself at the time.

‘If I ever wash someone’s hair, I’m not going to send them away after.’

It was such an oddly specific pact to make; maybe she thought of it in terms of when she was older and had a child and washed its hair during a bath, since she believed all children— not just orphans and fosters— could be sent away if they weren’t wanted. Even the ones who had their natural parents. Cause that’s what hers did. Or maybe she would draw a bath for one of their friends if they got sick; she’d still be their friend after. Or even if Maz had kept her, she would wash the little patches of hair that were left after a long day of chemo. And all the other days that would follow.

It was something Rey hadn’t thought of (by choice) for a long time. Usually thinking of those things made her cry or put her in a foul mood. She actively blocked out reminders of things that made her cry, which came back full-circle to her bittersweet relationship with sleep; the span between consciousness and slumber was transparent and loose, allowing anything to creep its way back to her mind, because her guard was down.

But as she thought of it now, with Ben’s hair between her lithe fingers, the fondness the memory should’ve evoked began manifesting. She carefully laced her fingers between tufts of his silky hair that contained shades of black Rey didn’t know existed. She always kept her nails short, but there was enough of a tip to gently work through his scalp, massaging the jasmine soap and forming a rich lather. His breathing slowed and eyes closed as she worked. He didn’t say anything at first, just allowing her to take control and pamper him. The way he leaned into her touch and all but cooed as she worked told Rey that perhaps this kind of pampering was rare for him as well.

Before she started washing his hair, she poured out a concoction she made from a recipe online. It was a mix of herbs and spices, and thus was called a ‘bath tea.’ Ben had told her to use whatever she wanted to from his kitchen and cupboards, but he was missing a few things to complete the recipes Rey wanted to make for the bath, so she sent out an order for groceries. She bought the milk then, too, not wanting to use up all of his inventory. She did her best to hide the evidence of her haul though, because knowing Ben (as she did now, anyways), he probably would’ve insisted on paying.

She had applied the minty face mask Kaydel bought her from Lush before getting to his hair, and massaged it into the contours of his face; he almost reminded her of a cat that purred when its chin and cheeks are rubbed, seemingly very pleased with his situation. She payed conscious attention to every detail of his face, thoroughly mapping it out against her fingers, as if she needed to commit it to memory. She was enjoying it as much as he was before she used a warm, wet cloth to blot out the bits of hardened clay.

Her fingers had been tracing circles around his temples when he finally broke the silence.

“Rey,” he began, voice husky like it was whenever he woke up.

“Yes?” She replied just above a whisper as she continued to ministrations.

A content sigh rumbled, making his sculpted chest rise along with the breath.

“Why are you doing this?”

His question didn’t catch her off guard necessarily. She figured he might ask. And even though it made her nervous, to some degree, she had hoped he would. She still was at a bit of a loss in selecting her response, though.

“For me?” He added softly before she answered.

The circles she traced along his hairline slowed for a moment but continued as she spoke.

“A, um... one of my fosters, an older woman would give me nice baths while I was with her. She was very kind. Maybe the only one. And they always made me feel good. And so when I don’t feel good,” she began, hesitation trailing her voice, “taking a bath makes me feel better. Could be when I’m sick, have a headache, or just... maybe at the end of a bad day. I feel comforted, as I did then. Warm and tucked in, sort of like a hug. Cherished, even. I grew up without arms around me, as you know, so...,” her voice cracked and she paused, which caused Ben’s steady breathing to halt for a moment.

She collected herself and continued. “So, it was always something that made me feel better and made me happy. And I’d feel better. So I, um... I thought maybe you might enjoy it too. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

Ben’s bathtub faced his sink which had a mirror over it. Rey could see them in the reflection. She had only caught a few glances at it, which was how she knew he had closed his eyes as she scrubbed.

Slowly, so slowly, he turned his hand over his shoulder and met her hand at his temple, and carefully pulled it down to his shoulder near this collarbone. Just as carefully, he laced his fingers through hers and pressed his lips onto her palm, so lightly she could almost miss it. But of course, even the lightest touch from Ben would never go unnoticed.

She dared to look up at the mirror. He was looking at her in their reflection. His eyes were dark and glassy, pouring something to her. It was as if he was beckoning her, like he was drowning and she had a life line.

Or maybe it was she who was drowning and he called out to her, to let her know he was there with the life line and that he heard her screams and pleas that no one else around had.

Because Ben always did.

Her eyes were also glassy, wet with tears she commanded to stay at bay. She met his gaze in their reflection, joining him in that moment of silence. That moment of meaning. That moment of understanding.

“It does,” he whispered back, voice raspy.

She didn’t know how long they held each other’s gaze in the mirror; it was probably only a moment or two, and nothing else was said, but the significance of his look and his silence was not lost on her.

Even though all the soap had been washed out, Rey continued lazily running her short nails over his scalp, alternating between the grazing of her nails and kneading with the pads of her digits. It was rhythmic and relaxing. Everything about that day had been relaxing; it was easy and comforting, this bout of domesticity she and he have shared. And she wanted to linger in it, for as long as he would have her.

_I wouldn’t mind washing his hair every day_ , she thought as fondness blossomed inside her, like a flower blooming among all the thorns and weeds within.

_I could make a garden of what I feel for him._

The thought struck her. It was an immense sentiment to have for someone so foreign yet so familiar; so soon yet so late. Alarms were going off in her head. She looked down at the crown of his head as she considered him over the sounds of the sirens. His body went tense and rigid. He was frowning, just looking out the window to his side. His eyes were hardened and stormy, like the black clouds out the window.

_He looks upset._

It then occurred to her that perhaps reality was setting in for him. Reality that they loathed one another just days ago. Sure, she had realized her feelings, but had he? Did he really feel the same? Maybe he did for a moment, but perhaps it was just that— a moment. A phase in time that soon passed. And as much as she loved being there, a fixture in his space, maybe his feelings were changing. Maybe he didn’t like it as much. Maybe this was more than he wanted. Maybe he was just glad they could be friends but she took it too far _again_. She knew she was going down a path that would ultimately lead to her own unhappiness, but she couldn’t help it; it was all her feet had known.

It was the feeling of happiness that scared her. She was already too comfortable. Taking it fast.

It felt like being in a car and speeding down an empty road, not realizing she was driving at a hundred miles per hour until a tree came close in view. She wasn’t pacing herself; she was off balance.

_This was always what it comes down to._

_Making a home too soon._

She learned from a very early age that she shouldn’t plant her feet on grounds that were unsteady. The fact that she was simmering in this small snippet of domesticity with him before they even established a change in relationship was alarming.

These thoughts consumed Rey like the havoc that flowed out of Pandora’s Box. One thought led to another until she was engulfed.

Rey was the sort of person who was constantly making note of all the potential exits around; she wanted to be able to control when she stayed and when she left.

When she was younger, she was the sort of person who’d constantly ask her friends if they were mad at her if they had been quiet that day. They hardly ever were, but knowing that her constant asking annoyed them and that their answer had such a hold on her was enough to decide that she would never ask them again; if she thought they were angry with her and were acting particularly quiet, she’d just act the same back. That was her way of taking back control.

She looked at the door and thought of how she might excuse herself. She didn’t know if the room felt smaller because it was now full of her fears, flying overhead, or if it had always been this small— forcing her and Ben together.

She didn’t want to force it. No one liked her when she was clingy and needy. He was probably annoyed and put off by the fact she was yet again putting on the water works over something as trivial as a bath.

_He’s already getting bored of your antics._

_He’s seen too much._

_You’re too much._

She could _feel_ herself being annoying; annoying _him_. She had already turned him off in the past by incessantly approaching him when he didn’t want it, so she needed to stop now before he turned away again. She would do whatever she thought necessary to ensure she didn’t ruin it like she always did with everyone else.

Because she didn’t want to lose him. She wanted to keep him and she wanted _him_ to _want_ to keep _her_.

_After this, I’ll leave. I can come back… some other time. If he wants me to. Because if he wants me, he’ll want me to._

_I can get control of this._

Her pulse rate and breathing regulated upon deciding that, but it didn’t cure the sinking feeling in her heart like it normally would. It was an infinite loop. This cycle of reaching the cusp of happiness and then being too afraid to take the plunge.

_Better safe than sorry._

But as she held him in her hands, she realized it was too late: she had already jumped, and was now desperate to go back. But she couldn’t. Because she was in too deep. He had her heart and didn’t even know it.

She continued at this until Ben cleared his throat and brought his hand back up to hers, this time to pause her work.

His eyes were anchored down to where the caps of his knees peeked out from the hazy water. “Rey,” he started. His voice was husky and heavy, and his words came out so low that she could just barely hear him. “I, um... I can take care of the rest. It... I won’t be long, if you wanted to wait. I’ll call for you when I’m dressed.”

_He’s tired of you. You’re overstaying your welcome._

“Okay, yeah, of course. Sure. I’ll, um,” she said as she stood up from the chair and backed away toward the door, “I’ll just wait outside for you, then. Call me,” she reminded him. She had told him when he was done washing off and getting into fresh clothes she would help him get around after.

_You don’t need to remind him to call you. He already knows you said to. If he wants to, he will._

_You’re just going to make him want to send you away even more than he already does._

“Okay,” Ben replied quietly.

With slight hesitation, she closed the door behind her. She didn’t know it, but as soon as the door shut behind her, Ben allowed himself to cry in earnest.

* * *

Really, Ben wasn’t entirely sure why he started crying. He rarely cried.

It wasn’t for a lack of wanting to, though. He just felt like when he gave way to tears, it was a sign of weakness. Like it was just one more way of being a failure, succumbing to his feelings.

‘ _You lack discipline, Solo_ ,’ the old man’s voice rang in his head.

‘ _You’re weak. A slave to your childish emotions_.’

‘ _Your parents were right to send you here. Who could ever want someone like you? You can barely form a coherent sentence, boy.’_

_‘You must be dumb. There is something fundamentally wrong with you. Your parents saw it, I see it.’_

‘ _Why are you crying? Are you really so easily disposed to foolish, idle feelings?_ ’

‘ _You’re unbalanced._ ’

‘ _You’re weak_.’

And whenever it came to anything Ben did in his young life, the man’s reaction remained the same.

‘ _You failed._ ’

He only felt worse in those moments when the only solace he could find was in memories of his mother and father. It was a devastating conflict that split his spirit to the bone. The only thing that could bring him comfort was the thing that brought him to the brink.

He so wanted to go back home. Be _allowed_ to come back home. But it had been too late for that. They sent him away because they didn’t like the way he turned out. Sometimes it felt like they viewed him as a meal they ordered at one of those fancy restaurants they constantly haunted, but there was a flaw in the recipe that disgusted them and thus sent the dish back to be remade; remade or thrown out completely. Essentially, it was someone else’s problem.

But this was something that Ben had lived with every day. He couldn’t avoid thinking of it, remembering it, even when he slept; especially when he slept. It was the highlight of all his bad dreams. He suffered in sleep, and so being awake was just a constant quest for distraction. But he was used to it so it didn’t bring him to tears each and every time it came up. Only when the nightmares were violent.

Tears that ran down his cheeks as they grew hot. Some days when it was all too much to take, he would find himself in pieces. But this was something else.

It felt like a release of some sort. It was as if he had been so heavily consumed and absorbed by the pain, it filled every inch of his body; the chronic ache of rejection was the ocean he kept drowning in. Always dark and cold, overflowing his other senses.

But as his breathing hitched as he muffled his sobs into the plain of his palms, it felt like he was bleeding out. Like some of that pain began to spill out of him, vacating his lungs and fresh air replacing it. His body felt less tight, relieving the ache in his bones. It was the feeling of letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

It felt like being rescued after being lost in the wilderness during an endless night, left out in the cold. The dampness of the night air that soaked through his clothes and struck his skin began to fade against the firelight. It left his bones sore, but in the same way one’s body lays pliant after a warm summer day spent swimming, laughing.

Because, in a sense, he did find his way back home.

As Rey ran her fingers through his hair, touching him with such tenderness, he felt like he was accepted. Allowed to come home. It reminded him of everything that he missed, and he felt like in that moment it had all come back to him. The way his mother would glide her hand against the back of his head, the way his father would playfully scruff up his hair. The memories that brought him comfort and warmth after spending his days lost at sea, unable to return.

He gave them so many signs. His letters and calls became less frequent. He told them less when he did speak. He was dull, numb. Distant. He was drifting further away from them, just hoping that they would reel him back in and save him. But they didn’t. Not until he began to forge the distance himself, deepening it. And filling it with something else.

But Rey oversaw the distance. She saw his signs and understood them. She kept reaching for him, infiltrating his orbit in an act of defying gravity; the gravity he created to keep things— _people_ — away. Not wanting anything or anyone to come close.

But it was all a ruse. It was never true. He _never_ _stopped_ wanting to be found and allowed to come back home. He thought that there was no home for him to return to, though. And so he accepted his fate as a nomad, too far into the world to be found again. He used anger and bitterness as the monochromatic mask that obscured and concealed what was inside, buried deep within and hidden away. The secret person of his heart. The person he didn’t want to be known.

Who he really was— who _always_ had been. Who his parents sent away and never really retrieved. Always there. He was always there.

But through some miraculous force, Rey saw through him; she saw the creature behind the mask.

All those times he tried to push her away, keeping the light out as it slipped in through the cracks of his mask, were in vain.

So many useless words were said. Unkind remarks. The implications of his words. They were all just the cracks in his mask. The mask that began to feel too tight. The mask Rey made him want to take off. She always had tried.

Even when he he rebuffed her.

He remembered the third time they met.

_When Ben arrived to the club, his eyes immediately found Rey. She was wearing a blue dress; the skirt hung over her mid-thighs and its velvet sheen was reflective against the shoddy lighting. Her hair had been done in loose waves. She was laughing with Kaydel and Jannah, falling right into place. Rey was meant to be seen and known, like a rare flower. Ben, for his part, felt more like a weed, meant to be ignored and stepped on, maybe even extracted out._

_He wished he was happy like she was in that moment. He knew, though, that there was nothing there for him that would evoke such a feeling. The music was upbeat and ugly, as was the incessant chatter of all the loud, rude people there; everyone around was sweaty and smelled of cheap liquor and artificial fruit syrup. Armitage was the only other person in the group who shared his introverted tendencies, so he complained about it to him and they had snickered about the tedious evening. Rey would glance his way; she looked disappointed to see him. The more they began seeing one another as Rey became an essential member of the group after moving into town from the UK, the less Rey looked pleased to see him. Not that she didn’t make an effort to mend whatever hard feelings had grown between them, though. No matter how rude Ben was the first night they met, followed by even more frosty reception the second time, down to outright ignoring her the third time, she always tried. Even if it was just being the first to say hello._

_He wasn’t sure if it was a wonderful act of fate or an inevitable disaster that they both had found themselves on the edge of the crowd that was on the dance floor. Ben never danced; he could feel himself being embarrassing by flailing like an oversized tube man, lacking grace in every sense of the word. But as for why Rey found herself alone was beyond him. He couldn’t say he was upset by it, though. Rey was too good for anyone and everyone else in the room. He could feel his veins radiate heat and his limbs lock with violence at the thought of some overbearing, handsy bastard swiping her away to the dance floor, not even taking a second to appreciate his fortunate situation, just taking this angelic creature as a standard Saturday night fling. He didn’t know if the rage came from his predetermined stereotype of the people around them, or some form of weird jealousy over the fact that just about anyone there had a better chance of having Rey than he ever would. As far as he was concerned, he was the least deserving one there._

_Before he knew it, she had approached him. Radiating light with that earth-shattering smile, a lovely juxtaposition of coyness and confidence._

_He quickly pulled his phone out. He knew he looked ridiculous, using it as some sort of social shield to look busy. But better she think he was on his phone and had something to do aside from ogle at her the way he had been._

_“Hey,” she greeted him with the same kindness she had each time before._

_He could feel his cheeks burning and practically had to force himself to look up and give her a brief nod of acknowledgment. “Hey,” he said back, like an idiot._

_Her lips tightened together and her eyes narrowed for a second, making him think she was about to tell him off finally or maybe just walk away. He had the habit of pulling his shoulders in closer to his center and craning his head down, ready for the much-deserved rejection; he knew it didn’t actually do anything effective to his visibility, but just like the phone, it was a comforting habit._

_He couldn’t believe his ears when he heard what she said next._

_“Would you care to dance a song?”_

_It was cliche, but his mind and his heart were at war with each other. His heart told him he needed to say yes, not let an opportunity like this pass him; his mind told him otherwise._

_She doesn’t really mean it._

_She doesn’t want to dance with you._

_She’s just being nice._

_She feels bad for you cause of how stupid and pathetic you look, standing here alone like some kind of creep._

_Say no._

_He tried to harden his face with indifference to mask the hurt his assumed rejection brought on._

_“Do I look like the dancing type?” He snapped at her, his words intentionally laced with irritation._

_At first he thought that it was the wrong response to give, because she immediately seemed winded and maybe even hurt at his words. “Oh, um,” she drew out while playing with a strand of hair, looking away from him. “I— I don’t know. Just thought to ask.”_

_He was about to redact his cold tone and apologize and say he’d love to dance with her, feeling stupid as he saw the disappointment on her face. But then her brows knitted and her lips pursed, eyes lifting from the ground to the crowd ahead before turning back to him. “I mean,” she added, voice dripping with venom. “You’re clearly the life of the party. You’re a bit of a drag, mate. Why even come if you’re just going to stand there like an oaf?”_

_Told you so._

_In what universe would she give you the time of day?_

_She just confirmed that she thinks you’re stupid and weird._

_She’s just desperate and looking for a partner and you’re the only one around._

_His eyes darkened and muscles tensed as if she’d just cut him across the face. But he wouldn’t let her see just how deep the gash she inflicted really went._

_“I’m not the desperate one lowering my standards cause I can’t stand being alone,” he told her before storming off._

_He was glad his body caught up to his mind, because he was able to escape before she saw the aftermath as he got back in his car to drive home. He wasn’t... crying... he was just... angry. Angry tears. He didn’t cry anymore; crying was childish and a side effect of a meltdown, and he didn’t do those anymore._

_Right?_

_He hated her for reminding him of what— who— he was. Even the small comment that probably meant nothing was enough to bring him to pieces, reminding him of just how many times he’d fallen apart before and just couldn’t seem to stay whole. It’d always been that way, and he hated it; hated his brain, his looks, himself, the circumstances, her. It all left him exploding with radioactive pain._

_He hated her for seeing him. He wished that she never would’ve noticed him at all, evoking the awareness he had of himself. It was like she held up a mirror to him and he hated her for it._

_But maybe it wasn’t really her he hated. Maybe it was what was looking back at him. His reflection was all he had, and maybe that’s what he hated. Because all he was left with were all the flaws he kept trying to change but just couldn’t._

_He wasn’t feeling good. His head ached and eyes were sore._

_Maybe it’s just allergies._

_As he saw his face in the mirror after the cold shower, eyes red and skin raw, lips still quivering, he just chuckled at the sight looking back at him._

_“Yeah. It’s just allergies.”_

And even so, she kept on. She kept trying to break through to him, to find him. She never gave up on him. Because she somehow saw that who he presented himself as— the bitter, dejected, angry person who thought everyone was determined to hurt him— was not who he really was. There was someone else under the mask and she saw through the cracks of it.

And he finally was beginning to take it off. And what was under it was the same person he always had been. The one who now sits in the bathtub, tears racing against the raindrops on his window, tucking his oversized body into itself as he allowed the mask to come apart; the ocean to drain; the pain to bleed out.

But he wasn’t ashamed of that anymore. He wasn’t cold or alone anymore.

He was home.

He finished washing off, taking his time so as to allow the swelling of his face and the redness in his eyes to subside.

Rey was right; the bath did make him feel better. And not just because there was epsom salt and ‘bath tea,’ as she calls it. It was nice to feel clean.

He didn’t know how he would make it happen, but all he wanted to do was lay in bed and hold her against his chest. Whisper secrets and praises and reassurances in her ear as his fingers raked through her hair and they fell asleep. He felt sleepy and relaxed, which was a rarity. He wiped the steam away that had covered his mirror from the hot shower he took after draining the bathtub as he yawned. The face that looked back at him was tired but content. It could’ve been from the crying, but he also felt genuinely exhausted, the way a runner would feel after completing a race.

He slipped into some clean pyjamas and finger-combed his hair one more time before calling for Rey. He wasn’t sure what the plan would be from this point on; he didn’t want her to go home yet, not that he could think of any other time that would be better for her to leave though.

“Rey?” He called out. He had leaned his body against the wall to keep off his injured leg. It was already feeling a bit better, but if Rey still wanted to be around to help him, who was he to deny her?

“Coming!” She called back, voice getting louder as she got near.

She opened the door and tucked herself under his arm so as to support him as they walked. She looked up at his face once he yawned for the second time as they neared his living room and her brow furrowed.

“You alright?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You look like you... like you’re tired.”

“No, I’m oka—,” he tried to say before yawning mid-sentence.

She smirked as they reached the end of the hall between his room and the living room, then paused. “Ben, if you’re tired you should rest.”

“I can just rest on the couch, in that fort-thing you made.”

“Did you sleep last night?”

His lips parted as he prepared to lie and say he did, but when he met her suspicious stare he admitted he hadn’t, aside from a few hollow hours before waking up.

“Plus the bath was very relaxing,” he added.

She smiled. “How about you lay down in your bed? It’s way more comfortable for you and probably better for your leg.”

As much as he wanted to insist he’d be fine on the couch, his bed was practically calling to him. It had been a long time since he felt so sleepy.

Or actually, he corrected himself, the last time was on the train home, after the tea. And before that, on the couch at the cabin.

But those were special occasions, and perhaps this was also one. The common denominator was the same in each case: Rey was close by, whether in thought or presence.

So he gave in and sighed out, “okay.”

They made the quick reversal in direction back to his room. Maybe they could sit on the bed and watch a movie on the flatscreen that hung on the wall, facing the bed. They both were comfortably suited for a lazy rainy day in. Rey was still in her pyjamas too, only she now was wearing that fuzzy Sherpa sweatshirt over the T shirt.

She helped him settle onto one side of the bed and propped his leg up with a few extra pillows. Before she could get all the extra pillows from the opposite side of the bed to prop against him, he stopped her.

“Oh, this is enough. Thanks. I um,” he rubbed the back of his neck while avoiding eye contact. “Did you, um... did you maybe want to watch a movie or something?”

Rey’s eyes widened as if his offer came as a surprise. She pulled out her phone and glanced on it before putting it back in her short’s pocket. “You sure? You really should rest, Ben. I feel like I’ve kept you all day.”

_I’d like it if you did_ , he thought in response.

He shook his head. “I really don’t mind. I have nothing else I’d be doing, so it’s not a bother.”

_Nothing else I’d rather be doing._

She have him a half smile and a quick nod before crawling onto the other side. She scooted her knees up to chest and rested her chin atop her kneecaps. She kept glancing over to him as if she was unsure of how to act, and really, he wasn’t sure how he ought to act either. There was a sense of awkwardness that filled the space between them and he didn’t know how to merge and mend it.

“You really can take a nap if you want to, Ben. I feel like I’m... I don’t know,” her voice grew small. She wasn’t looking at him when she spoke, choosing to focus just beyond the view of her knees. “Burdening you. You’re probably exhausted and I’ve totally intruded and probably messed up your routine.”

His brows furrowed and his face soured, incredulous. “What routine?”

Her eyes shifted back and forth. “Well, Poe once told me that you don’t really like having company over and you like keeping your space neat and you just have your own routine you like. And I feel like I’ve come in and done the opposite. I’ve been messy and loud and just... here.”

He so wanted to get closer to her, but he stayed still.

“I want you here.”

Rey wasn’t looking at him. It was almost like he could feel her trying to pull away from him.

He was tired, but not of her. Tired of moving. Moving from her, her moving from him. It was like they were always just so close to it— whatever it was— but never fully there. It felt like they were celestial bodies on the verge of an eclipse, but never fully reaching each other’s orbit.

“Do you...,” he added. “Do you... not want to be here?”

His line of thinking immediately went into the negatives, working to convince himself that she probably didn’t want to be there and he was coming on too strong. Too needy. Too insistant. But he bit his tongue before he let that show.

“No, I do. But...,” she paused and then shook her head. “Nevermind. No, yeah. I want to be here.”

He knew she meant it but he couldn’t shake the unease he felt in her hesitation. Her head still hung low and her lips were pouted. Her arms wrapped around her knees. She still wasn’t looking at him.

His instincts told him to tell her to leave before she said she wanted to. Or maybe just drop it and just enjoy her while he had her. But he couldn’t. Because pieces of Rey were no longer enough.

He scooted closer to her, barely an inch. She quickly glanced at the space between them but didn’t say or do anything.

He took a deep breath before speaking.

“If... if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But,” he put his hand atop her wrist as it wrapped around her legs, so gently it could be missed.

But she never missed him. So she looked into his eyes, waiting for him to finish his sentence. She looked at him as if she had asked him a question that she knew the answer to, and was waiting to see if he would get it right.

“Don’t leave on my account. I want you to stay.”

Of course there was meaning in what was being said that went beyond watching a movie. He knew it, and he knew she did too.

She kept looking into his eyes for a long moment as she seemed to decide what to say. Her eyes became glassy but she still kept looking at him.

“You should rest, Ben,” she insisted. Her voice was breaking. She kept looking into his eyes for a long moment as she seemed to decide what to say. Her eyes became glassy but she still kept looking at him.

He shook his head and held her hand. “I’m not tired.”

She let out a broken chuckle. Tears streamed down her cheeks but she smiled anyway. “Yes you are,” she whispered back. He could tell it came out as a whisper to keep her voice steady. “You have sleepy eyes.”

He smiled back. His eyes stung and he felt tears brim at the corners; not just from the tiredness. For her.

“I don’t mind staying up.”

She snorted and quickly brought her other hand to cover her running nose. “I want you to rest. You look so tired.”

He shrugged. “I am resting.”

She squeezed his hand a bit and returned to looking away. “I have to go home eventually. Even if I do want to stay.”

He swallowed, pacing himself before speaking and rushing to insist she could stay forever if she wanted to.

“Then why don’t you?” He rasped out, running his thumb over her hand. She was looking at him again.

There was a moment of silence that passed before her features crumpled, contorting as her face fell. She hid her face in her knees.

He panicked and rushed to her side while still holding her hand, using his free arm to wrap around her shoulders.

“Rey? What’s wrong? Did I— did I say something? Or—,” he fumbled before she shook her head and cut him off.

“ _No_ , Ben,” she snapped sternly through tears. “It’s— it’s not you, it’s _me_ , I’m just...,” she slurred. “I’m just confused. I think I best be going home now.”

He frowned and shook his head. “‘Confused?’ Why? What happened? What’s wrong?”

She sighed, though it came out more of a hiss between her clenched teeth. “I’m afraid that you might be confused, too.”

His heart sank.

_Did I misread this whole situation?_

“What do you mean?” He asked, despite fearing the potential answer.

She ran her fingers through her hair and withdrew her other hand from his. She was still crying but spoke clearly. “I just... I don’t know what to think. Or _feel_ ,” she turned to him. “I... I thought you hated me. And so I wanted to hate you. But it doesn’t feel like that. And I’m afraid that this is just something you’re feeling in the moment and when things go back to normal, you’ll go back to hating me because I’m a lot, and I— I don’t know what’s going on. And I don’t... I don’t know why...,” she sniffled. “Nevermind.”

He didn’t know where to begin as far as addressing what she just said. It was all untrue. But his thinking was clouded by the overwhelming pain he felt for her. She sounded so small and innocent. _Afraid_. He wanted to destroy whatever scared her.

“Why what?” He scooted closer to her. “Why what, Rey? Say it.”

She was trying not to cry. “Why what you give isn’t enough for me. Or maybe I’m... I’m not enough. Enough to stop thinking that you hated me, and make me believe that you won’t start again.”

“I didn’t hate you,” he pleaded with her, voice low yet firm.

She chuckled. “You always ignored me and sometimes you said things and I just... sometimes it felt like I was nothing but a bother to you. And I don’t want to be, I want to— I want to be someone that you’ll like and be happy with. Because I’ve always known you were good. That you were quiet but I thought maybe it was just around me because you were fine with everyone else. I watched you and knew you were good. And I wanted to know you. Even if you were quiet. You’re quiet and I’m loud and I’m just... I’m a lot and I’m scared of making you hate me. _Again_.”

He couldn’t say he was surprised by her words. A year’s worth of cold drafts and snarky comments had come back to haunt him. From both sides. But really, Rey had only ever lashed out in response to him. He kicked the ball to her and so the back and forth continued; it was always in his court, though. His perceived apathy and disdain were the genesis of all of it.

“Rey, I— I never hated you. Never will. I’ve always liked you. So much. And I was just messed up about it. Didn’t think you’d ever be interested in me, so I thought it’d be better to just... I don’t know. Be that way. I never thought it’d hurt you and I can’t say how sorry I am for it now.”

Her face softened and she relaxed a bit. Her brows knitted and her nose pinched in thought as she stared at her hands on her lap. She shook her head. “Then... then why, Ben? What happened?”

He knew she wasn’t angry at him anymore. She genuinely wanted to know.

“What happened to make you think I’d never be interested in you? That you were better off acting that way?”

He laid back and clasped his hands over his face, inhaling and exhaling before speaking as Rey watched him from the side. He never told anyone. Poe knew some things, but not all of it. He didn’t think Poe needed to know, or even really cared enough to know. But Rey did. And she deserved to know. To understand.

Because she had deemed him as being worthy of knowing. Understanding.

“I, uh... I got sent away when I was younger. This isn’t an excuse for how I acted, but it’s... it’s part of it, I guess. I was... I was always kinda different. Even from when I was born, apparently,” he chuckled incredulously. “My mom constantly reminds me I cried incessantly. She said even her pregnancy was tough. But anyway, I was always difficult. My mom said I lacked self-control, my dad said I made up for it in excessive sensitivity. Told me _everything_ hurt my feelings when I was little. When they were at work, I’d get all worked up and think they just didn’t want to be around me. I needed too much from them. They were busy. I still think they had me when they weren’t ready to be parents, but that’s besides the point.”

“I had... I had a hard time communicating with them, too. I didn’t really know how to talk to them and they sure as hell had no idea how to talk to me. Both my parents... they’re nice people, but sometimes it seems like we’re all from different planets. So when I was about fourteen, they sent me off to boarding school. It was supposedly some kinda prep school that would teach me how to be a ‘gentleman’ or whatever the hell. Grow up a bit. They were hoping I’d pick up some social skills and self confidence there, I guess,” he shook his head as he stared up at the ceiling. His hands were clasped together over his abdomen. Rey scooted closer to him, studying his expression as he spoke.

“But anyway, that wasn’t what happened, obviously. I kinda think I was just _born_ different and they didn’t know how to deal with it; it wasn’t a lack of wanting, mostly... I think. So they thought this place, _First Order Academy For Boys_ , would really help me out. They basically assigned students with an advisor-type person who helped them manage their classes and sorta acted as a mentor, I guess. And my mentor,” he jaw clenched. “Dr. Snoke. He was... he was a piece of work. He basically just amplified whatever bad stuff I already thought of myself. That I was stupid and weird and quiet. Mental. Just... it was a lot. He said he’d help me though. He basically encouraged the idea that being indifferent is better than feeling anything at all, ever. Being unfeeling was just as good as being well-mannered and polished. To be emotional was embarrassing. Wanting without reciprocation was embarrassing.”

“I never liked him. Never trusted him. I think all the teachers and staff there were kinda like that, though. So I kinda just... you know, bull-shitted my way around all of it. But I guess his mentality grew on me. I think I was just bitter, though. My parents wanted nothing to do with me until I was graduated and was a registered gentleman, essentially. So I did what I had to, I just was over the whole thing. But, you know,” his shoulders raised with a shrug. “Anger becomes you, after a while. And my family seemed pleased with it. Being distant was better, to them. But eventually they realized it was kind of an all or nothing thing for me. They didn’t want me to come home for the longest time, but once they allowed me to, I had no desire to go back either. I mostly did my own thing after that. I remember,” he chuckled, shaking his head again.

“I remember they practically _begged_ me to come back after my uncle Luke passed away. Guess they _‘needed to be family now more than ever’_ or whatever. And I told them, to put it nicely, to screw off. And screw Uncle Luke, too. Luke was the one who put the idea of that boarding school in their heads, after all, so. So yeah. Didn’t need them then, didn’t need them now.”

“And you know,” his voice broke as Rey anchored his torso toward her and placed his head in her lap while she combed through his hair. “The whole thing was just humiliating. I cared so much about what they thought of me when they didn’t think of me once during that time. And I didn’t want to do that again, cause it was stupid. I didn’t want to put myself out there with them or anyone else. And that was just the kinda guy I was. And maybe still am.”

He wasn’t quite crying, but his eyes felt heavy and his head ached as if he was sobbing. Interestingly enough, he didn’t feel the rage that swelled whenever he went over this recollection. Just like he did in the bathtub, he felt like he was being eased of a burden. A weight he carried with him at all times. Like Rey was helping him carry it now.

“You were never that guy, Ben,” Rey told him softly. Her eyes were wet again but she smiled at him beautifully, like the sun coming out between storm clouds. “It’s not a weakness, to feel something. To want something. Or to be wanted.”

He closed his eyes and tried to smile as he leaned into her touch. “I’m trying to believe that.”

She giggled, the sound barely rumbling out as her chest heaved. He felt her abdomen move with each breath. “I am, too.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, and neither did she. She continued holding him and he continued being held.

“Maybe,” he said after a few moments, “maybe... maybe we can help each other believe. I think you’ve already helped me to.”

Her fingers trailed over his face and her thumb swiped slowly over his jawline. “I think you’ve helped me, too. I’ve just... this whole time, I’ve just been trying to find my place in all this. I never realized how important it is to be understood. Heard. Seen.”

He sighed out. “I used to think that keeping that whole thing to myself was better. It’s my problem and I didn’t want to make it someone else’s. But eventually it becomes too much. I’ve lost countless hours of sleep— of wake, even— reliving the nightmare. Every bad thing that’s happened, just replaying all the time. Cause if I’m keeping them in, where else can they go? They became part of me. Making me sick. But I want to get better.”

“Whatever you have to give is your best. And I would be happy to even have a piece of it.”

He smiled, feeling her fingertips trace the corners of his mouth as he continued laying on her. It felt nice to have his mask off and breathe in clarity, without being ashamed of bearing what the mask hid whole time. “I’ll give you everything I have to give. Maybe one day it’ll be enough.”

“It is. I don’t doubt it now. Because I see you, Ben. Because you’re letting me.”

He brought her palm to his lips, kissing along the pad of it down to her wrist. He kept his eyes closed. He never felt sleepier. “I’ll always let you.”

She leaned down and kissed his forehead and the bridge of his nose. “I do eventually have to go back to my place.”

He liked that she sounded reluctant. “You can stay over here as long as you want. As long as you can, even.”

She chuckled, still lazily trailing his face with her hands. “I have things I have to do there, though,” she groaned. “And I do have to return to work tomorrow morning.”

He opened one eye and pulled out his phone. It was 3:21 PM.

“Well, I’ll get up and we can have lunch or something first.”

She smirked. “You’re half asleep here. That’s silly.”

“I want to spend time with you.”

She beamed at him. “You are spending time with me.”

“But if I’m asleep, how will I know that?” He feigned coyness.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re barely able to keep your eyes open. I of all people know and appreciate the value of a good nap, Ben. You need to rest. You’re an old man with an injured leg, after all,” she teased.

He yawned and stretched, snuggling into her and exhaling against her tummy. “Well, maybe you could also take a nap here for a little while. Then we can get dinner and I can see about getting you home.”

She groaned playfully before dramatically sighing with exasperation. “Fine. But only an hour. I don’t want to go back too late,” she said as her expression grew more serious while looking out the window. The rain was coming down hard.

He shrugged and moved back to his side, placing his head on the pillow before putting his hands around her slim waist and pulling her down with him. He kept his arms around her while they faced each other. He set an alarm on his phone before tossing it onto his side table. He held her face and drew mindless patterns along her jaw with his fingers. He wanted to kiss her again, but her eyes became droopy as well. He wanted her to sleep.

“Ben,” she whispered out.

“Hmm,” he hummed against her shoulder.

“Did you mean it when you called me ‘sweetheart?’ Am I your sweetheart?”

He chuckled into skin. “Yes. The one and only.”

She cooed contently. “In that case, you’re baby. My baby.”

He ran his lips along the curve line of her shoulder and neck. “Good.”

She turned onto her side and leaned her back against him. His arm wrapped around her, keeping her tucked into him.

“I want this, Ben,” she slurred out quietly as sleep took her. “Want _you_. Always have.”

“I want you too, Rey,” he planted a lazy kiss against her partially exposed neck. “Always will.”

* * *

_He smiles at Rey and she smiles back. Their hands are interlocked and swing rhythmically between them as they walk._

_“The trees seem to get taller each time we visit,” she tells him. She laughs, despite there being nothing to laugh at. Her capped nose scrunches and her freckles collect at the center. She’s just happy because she’s with him. That’s what she’s told him, at least. He believes her. She laughs often these days._

_“I’m sure they do,” he assures her. “They grow when they’re cared for, I guess. Each season has been good to them.”_

_“If you say so,” she begins, smiling with one eye closed as the sunlight peaks through the leaves overhead and reaches her eyes. For whatever reason, she stands on her tip toes and pulls him down to her so she can hug him. She kisses his cheek and moves a loose strand of black hair from his face. “It must be so.”_

_“I guess love is sort of like a tree,” he adds as they continue. His head is turned up to the sky, smiling at it as it smiled back._

_He loves the trees. He loves everything about this place. Both he and Rey do. There’s meaning in the air, the wind chiming against the leaves on the cool spring morning._

_Ben smiles at his girl, his sweetheart. His heart is bursting with love; love for her._

_They walk in the sunlight for countless hours. Everything is beautiful. But not as beautiful as she is._

_When she gets tired, he carries her on his back. He never gets tired. She plays with his hair as they go on; he loves it when she does that._

_No matter what, she holds onto him tightly. Maybe she’s even taking a nap; she still locks her arms around him like a bear does to a tree._

_When she gets hungry, he feels her belly rumble against the flat of his back. Their spot isn’t too far away, and once they reach it he gently wakes her up._

_She yawns and stretches her limbs as they still wrapped around him. He helps her onto her feet and they sit on the blanket that stretches over the grass._

_The turquoise lake gleams in the sunlight; it’s an oasis tucked between the cascading mountains over yonder, a lagoon among the tall pine trees. The most ideal backdrop to a most ideal scene._

_Their basket is packed with good things; muffins, sandwiches, custard, fries, coffee, fruit, chips, mac & cheese... just about anything and everything he and Rey like to eat. _

_After they’re done eating, they sprawl together on the blanket. The sun is still in the sky but it’s not disturbing their rest._

_He combs her hair the way she combs his. Sometimes she asks him to braid it, but usually she just wants him to run his fingers through it._

_He also traces her features with his finger. He tells her that each one is his favorite, because it’s true. She’s his favorite anything and everything. He doesn’t worry if the feeling goes both ways; he knows it does._

_The sound of birds chirping in the background subsides as their shallow breaths synchronized. Sometimes she tucked herself against his chest, other times she wrapped her whole body around him and collected him in her arms with his back against her chest._

_Today they faced each other. He loved being able to see her face, her perfect face._

_But in the time between shutting his eyes for a blink and opening them again, he doesn’t see her. He doesn’t feel her._

_He looks up. The sun is gone, and it’s dark. The clouds have rolled in; they’re angry._

_His ears are filled with the roll of thunder. The water from the lake splashes up, the droplets jumping up as the rain pivots against it._

_He can’t find Rey. He can’t feel her._

_But he hears her._

_She’s far away from him. But he hears her. Just as she always hears him._

_His heart drops and his breath stops. She’s crying._

_He hears her whimpers and hiccups. Her harsh breathing and pants ring heavy in his ears, almost louder than the thunder._

_“Ben,” he hears her say. Her voice strikes him, no matter how soft, broken and quiet, even more starkly than the lightning._

_“Please,” she sobs. “Please, please, please. Please.”_

_“Rey,” he calls back. “Where are you, sweetheart? I can’t find you.”_

_“Please.”_

_“Rey?”_

_“Come back! Please!”_

_“Rey!”_

_“Please— please don’t leave me. Don’t go away,” she howls against the wind. “Come back for me.”_

_He’s helpless. Everything’s dark and he’s stuck. He can’t get to her and he runs, following whatever trace of her he can. But he’ll find her. He’ll get to her. He won’t give up. Just like she won’t._

_“I’ll come back for you, sweetheart,” he calls to her— he promises her. He just needs to try harder. Run faster to her. Find her now._

_“Please.”_

_It’s the last thing he hears from her before he crashes._

Crashes into consciousness.

He shot up from his bed and looked around. He was panting and sweating. His bedroom was pitch-black and he couldn’t see anything, even though his eyes were open. The only trace of light was the sparse strikes of lightning as it crept through the window into the room. The storm raged on and the power had gone out.

That didn’t matter though. Rey was gone.

“Rey?” He called out, pausing to collect the sound of his own voice in his ears. Just to make sure it was real.

He heard her sobbing.

“Come back,” she whispered between the broken pants.

“Where are you?” He stumbled to his feet, once again forgetting his injury. The sudden burst of pain that charged through his leg caused him to gnash his teeth and hiss, coming out as more of a growl.

Rey sobbed even harder; he scared her.

“Rey,” he groaned, hastily reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “Sweetheart,” his voice trembled as he scrambled to switch on his flashlight.

“Ben,” she squeaked out in a shrill tone.

A quick scan around the room with the dull flashlight led to the corner of the room, close to the door. She was holding her knees against her chest and rocking back and forth, whaling without letup.

He didn’t care how much it pained his leg to rush over to her, nor did he care that he concentrated all his weight on both feet as he sunk to the floor to hold her.

“Rey, baby girl,” he cooed as he put his arms around her. She didn’t resist, instead leaning into his embrace while still holding herself.

He placed his fingers under her chin so he could see her face. He had placed the phone with the flashlight facing up, so he could only just barely make out her features. She wasn’t looking at him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked while running his hand up and down her back as she hiccuped.

She shook her head; her whole body was shaking. He made an idle effort to wipe away her tears, but they kept coming, making her whole face feel cold against his touch.

He knew how it felt in those moments. The entire body goes numb and words don’t flow the way they should. The temperature is too hot and too cold. It takes an additional few seconds for air to make it to the lungs; the amount of heartbeats increases, making up for the delay in breathing.

Drowning, burning, it doesn’t matter— the whole body is consumed by panic.

So he held her until she calmed down. He wasn’t sure how long it took, but he didn’t care either way.

When her breathing steadied, he tried again.

“Rey. You can talk to me.”

A hitched sigh came out as she nestled her face into the crook of his shoulder. “I know.”

Another bout of silence.

“Just... the night my parents left,” she whispered before pausing to catch her breath. “At least, I _think_ it was the night they left. It was raining. The rain in England is heavy. Extra lonely. Extra cold. They left me in an old B&B room. I thought... I thought they were going to come back. But they didn’t. I waited for them by the door. I wanted to follow them, but I couldn’t reach the handle. I thought maybe if I was taller, I would have been able to. And I would’ve caught them before they were gone, and maybe they would’ve changed their minds. But I couldn’t, so I waited. I didn’t sleep in case I missed it. But there was nothing. Just the rain beating against the windows.”

He cried with her. His lips quivered and eyes narrowed. His mind was nearly clouded by the profuse hatred he felt for her parents. But he took a breath and shook his head so he could listen clearly.

“The B&B staff discovered me the next morning around noon. They took me to the hospital and then... well, I don’t quite remember what happened after. I just ended up at the orphanage, eventually. It rained that day, too. Most days at that time were rainy days. But storms were the worst. Storms are always the worst because that day was the worst.”

He kept spreading his hands tenderly up and down the back of her neck before bringing them to cradle her face.

“That day is over, Rey. I promise. And I will do anything— everything,” he insisted, slightly intensifying his grip on her, “to make you forget that day. And each and every day that’s ever hurt you. I promise you, sweetheart.”

Her eyes gleamed against the pale moonlight that began trickling in as the storm outside subsided. It was the only source of light, since his phone died at some point over the hour.

His eyes were wet, too. He wanted to pour into her the abundance of feeling, of fondness— of love— that filled him to the brim. He always had so much of it, but there was never anyone to give it to.

But now there was. She was looking into his eyes and nodding. Pouring out the same feeling, fondness— love— right back to him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and then used her hands to cradle his face. And she didn’t hesitate to pull him into her. Capture his lips with hers. Connecting to him in this unspeakable, profound way, merging herself with him. Putting him back together with the broken pieces of herself; her jagged edges met his own, making them smooth again.

He felt whole again and he thought maybe she did, too.

“I’m tired,” she murmured between kisses, followed by a tiny yawn. Her nose scrunched and tongue clicked. She was smiling and her tears became fewer. “I want to go to sleep, Ben.”

He chuckled, pressing his forehead to hers and nodded. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. She protested at first, reminding him of his leg, but even then he didn’t care. He’d sleep it off the next day, maybe.

He tucked her under his white duvet before crawling in with her. They turned on their sides to face each other and just smiled at each other. Savoring each other’s company.

Her face was still raw from crying, but a mischievous spark danced through her eyes and she pursed her lips. Her eyes roved over his torso.

“I’m still cold, Ben.”

His brow bent and he chuckled. “Want me to grab another blanket?”

She shook her head defiantly. “I want two things.”

He then raised his brow, amused. “And what are they?”

She wiggled closer and sighed. “I want you to hold me. And...,” she dramatically looked up and tapped her finger against her chin before focusing her eyes on his body again. “I want the good boy sweater.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. She was adorable. He had no idea what happened to her fuzzy sweater in between the time he fell asleep and woke up, but he just propped himself up and pulled his sweatshirt off. She sat up too as he helped her put it on.

It looks better on her, anyway.

She snuggled against him. He kissed the crown of her head. Then her forehead. Then her temples. Then between her eyes. A kiss on each lid. Each cheek. On her nose. Each dimple at the corner of her lips on each side. A lazy kiss on the lips. Her chin. Her neck.

And she did the same. It was like she had remembered where each freckle and mole was on his face and planted a kiss on each one. She kissed every feature, praising each one with her lips.

The kisses were unhurried. Passionate, sans the frenzy, passing lust. Sleepy kisses full of life.

He kissed each of her fingers. Her palms, her wrists.

“I want you to stay,” she murmured with her lips still pressed to his cheek. “That’s all I ever wanted. Was for you to stay.”

“I will stay. Always.”

“I sleep better when you’re around, you know.”

“I know. I do too. Things are better with you. Even sleep. Especially sleep.”

“Especially sleep,” she echoed in agreement. “I think I sleep well when you’re with me because I feel safe.”

He hummed as he played with her hair. “I feel safe with you around, too. Even though you’re so much smaller than me. You fit perfectly with me, though.”

“I do,” she cooed back while patting his abdomen. “You’re a big, big man but you fit perfectly with me. There’s a Ben Solo size space in my heart where you fit perfectly, I think.”

His chest rumbled with laughter. He loved that.

_Love her._

He couldn’t help himself from asking. He just _had_ to hear her say it.

“Will you still be here, Rey? With me? In the morning?”

_All the mornings._

She cried but there was something different about these tears.

“I’ll still be with you, Ben. Tomorrow. All the tomorrows you’ll have me.”

“All of them.”

She reached over to wipe his tears. “In the daylight, Ben. I’ll still be here with you. In the daylight.”

* * *

She woke up before he did. She had wrapped herself around him, like a bear in a tree.

Her sleepy eyes glanced around the room. It was that beautiful, pink and navy hour between night and day. There were still stars in the sky as the sun replaced the moon.

She peeped over the hill of his shoulders. The golden light shone through just enough to cast over his features.

She would love to wake up to this sight every day.

She felt lighter. The cool draft slipped in and filled her lungs. It was nice to take a breath. She could smell him as she pressed her nose into his neck.

Sleep had treated her well. She could get up now, but she chose not to. She was tired, even though she slept so soundly.

It was the much-needed rest she’d been of desperate need to catch up on. A lifetime’s worth, practically.

It had always been a struggle; a bitter rivalry; a duel. Unscathed or dented, it didn’t matter. She had to have it, she yearned for it with an insatiable hunger— control.

It had always been about that. Not a want, but a need; a need in the strongest, most instinctive sense. The bone-deep urge to feel control in her grasp— control of herself.

It only made sense that she seize it in any form. Control of what she though, what she felt. The only way to get a grip was to exclude, minimalise. Select only certain things to recall, acknowledge, think about.

It helped to keep those unwanted intrusions at bay. Having say in what others thought by keeping them at bay. Never letting them in. They couldn’t reject her if they never knew her.

But he did.

It occurred to her that her hungers and cravings for control had steadily morphed into gluttony.

She was at the brink. The brink of exploding, of suffocating from the iron-clad grip she had over herself.

It was no longer about her lack of control— it was not about excess. She was too in control.

But as she looked into his eyes— golden light streaking among the darkness, illuminated by the starlight— she felt her grip loosen. Air refilled her lungs, painting them with life again.

She was coming to life again. A promise, like the glow of the sunrise after a long night, trickled in. He illuminated her; he ran through her lungs, her veins, radiating out.

He was in everything.

Where he belonged.

Because she finally let him in.

And now they found themselves together— _still_ together.

Through darkness.

Through daylight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, friends. The final chapter before the epilogue. I worked hard on this and I really hope you guys enjoy it. 18k still doesn’t seem like enough to say goodbye and wrap up our friends, Ben and Rey, for this story... but they’ll be back. There’s still an epilogue coming your way very soon~
> 
> Thank you all for reading this and being so loyal and patient throughout it. Ive really become attached to this story and this Ben and Rey, so it’s hard to wrap it up but i think this is where their story has been leading up to. I really hope you like it and i really cant express my full appreciation for the comments you make. I plan to respond to each and every one of them later today, I’ve just been so overwhelmed with finishing this chapter and making it perfect. I wanted it to be something i feel proud of; the worst regret is ending a story on a note you aren’t proud of, and this story has become very special to me so I wanted to do it right. Right by me, and hopefully right by all of you. I really really hope you like this. Please let me know in the comments, tweets, kudos, etc. I think this is my most favorite piece I’ve done, and I really hope my feelings and heart are reflected in the words you read. I’m with you there. Always.
> 
> With all my love and gratitude,
> 
> Cristina 
> 
> XXxx
> 
> Please say hi to me on twitter!
> 
> www.twitter.com/ang3lview


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it~
> 
> Cw: parenthood, children, babies, anxiety over parenthood

_5 years forward..._

They both smiled. He smiled back at them as he held their hands and swung in between them; he knew they wouldn’t drop him.

“I wanna be as tall as a tree, papa,” he told him, voice like laughter and his words hitched between the gaps in his teeth. His little capped nose scrunched, gathering his freckles at the center of his face. Just like his mama.

“I’m sure you will be,” he assured him. “One day you’ll be taller than both me and mama.”

He giggled, absolutely tickled by the idea. “Is papa right, mama?”

She nodded, stopping in their tracks to kneel down and pulls him in for a hug. She kissed his cheek and moved a strand of loose black hair from his face. “If papa said so, it must be.”

“We can all be trees,” he announced, head turned up to the sky as he spun in a circle. He loved the trees. He loved everything about this place. Just as his mama and papa had. There was meaning in the air, the wind chiming against the leaves on the cool spring morning.

Ben smiled at his son. His heart bursted with love; love for their boy, love for her.

They walk in the sunlight for countless hours. Everything is beautiful. But not as beautiful as the family he’s made with her.

When Ollie gets tired, he carries him on his back. He never gets tired. He plays with his hair as they go on, running his small fingers through it just for the sake of silliness; he loves it when his boy does that.

No matter what, he holds onto his father tightly. Maybe he’s even taking a nap; he still locks his short arms around his neck like a cub does to its parent as they scale a tree.

When he gets hungry, he feels his little pot belly rumble against the flat of his back. Their spot isn’t too far away, and once they reach it he gently wakes him up.

He yawns and stretches his limbs as they still wrapped around him. He helps him onto her feet and they sit on the blanket that stretches over the grass. He crawls over to Rey, settling onto her lap and nuzzling his little face into her shoulder.

“You hungry, mama?” He asks her, followed by a yawn and crinkle of his nose.

A giggle rumbles through her and she leans down to kiss his temple, lingering for a moment to smell him. He smells of apples and honey.

Her eyes sway from their son and back to Ben. “Of course. _Always_ , pumpkin. Especially if papa is cooking.”

Ben’s heart thuds, her words— her look— warming him down to his belly like Naboo milk on a cold night.

Ben rarely was left feeling cold these days. The warmth and comfort of having someone at his side all this time— when he woke up, when he stepped out, when he went to bed at night— never allowed for him to find himself out in the cold, alone.

Since that morning, five year ago, he was never alone again. It was always her. Him. Them. She was always there, and he couldn’t do anything but dedicate his days to thanking her. Giving her everything she needed and wanted.

And as it turns out, she and he were cut and scarred by the same hands: the hands of loneliness and fear. Too scared to sleep. Too afraid to be awake.

Maybe it was the experience of being left to fend alone in the darkness.

But there was always daylight. Something bright and warm on the horizon, waiting to be seen and felt.

And when they found each other— when they finally took each other’s hand— they found the way out.

And since then, they didn’t look back. Didn’t need to.

When darkness rises, there would be light to meet it.

And Ben knew from that moment on he never wanted to forget how that felt. She didn’t either.

Hours turned to days. Days to nights. Nights to weeks. Weeks to months. Months to years. Years to a lifetime.

They married a year and a half later. It was a small ceremony; their friends, his parents, his grandparents, and a handful of others.

His parents love Rey. Initially, they told him they loved her because he loved her. But Rey was just too easy to love and adore.

Leia, Padme, and Rose took Rey to buy her wedding dress. It was perfect for her. It was long and flowy, shimmery like a silk slip. The neckline was a sharp V, with intricate, crystallized embellishments and embroidery sewn on over a thin, modest layer of lace mesh. She looked perfect in it. The dress reminded him of shimmering galaxies but she was the brightest star among the vast.

Her hair was delicately curled, messily bunched into an updo with curly strands framing her face. There were small chamomile flowers clipped into her hair.

She didn’t wear much makeup. Some rose colored blush, tinted lip balm that tasted like sweet berries, and a dewy champagne gloss over her eyelids and cheeks.

Her body was soaked in soft lavender oil from the bubble bath they took that morning. The tub faced the wild, vibrant green mountain plains seen out the panoramic window of the cottage.

Along with the subtle lavender scent, she smelled like wildflowers and orange blossoms.

He dressed simply. A dark navy suit, white shirt, and champagne colored silk tie. His boutonnière was a small bunch of juniper leaf, baby’s breath, and chamomile flower.

They stayed in the cottage for a week, forcing themselves to go out and explore the wonders of Yosemite together. As many times as he’d been there, everything seemed so new and even more lovely than ever before. She made everything new and lovely.

They found out they would be having a baby two and a half years later.

It brought them closer in every way; in excitement, in apprehension.

Amilyn, Rey’s therapist, and Leia were tremendous resources during that time especially. Rey reinforced her coping strategies and was more motivated than ever to let Ben in. Share her hopes and fears with him, finding a reflection of such in him as well.

Gwendoline, his therapist, had encouraged him to make a list. A list that stated three goals he’d have in his course of fatherhood.

It was easier than he thought it would be.

  1. _Take my time and enjoy our baby. Be there for all the important things, minute things, and everything in between. Take lots of pictures, too._
  2. _Encourage the baby. Let the baby know that there will always be someone to love and be loved by. Starting with me and Rey._
  3. _Thank Rey every day for giving me this. Share with her. Learn with her, from her. Cherish her. She is my family. Die for her— live for her. Her and our child. Us._



And for once, Ben feels satisfied with himself. As he saw his beautiful Rey smothering Ollie with kisses, eyes heavy with love for them both, he knew he was on the right path. Because he was with her. Him. His family.

The turquoise lake gleams in the sunlight; it’s an oasis tucked between the cascading mountains over yonder, a lagoon among the tall pine trees. The most ideal backdrop to a most ideal scene.

Their basket is packed with good things; muffins, sandwiches, custard, fries, coffee, fruit, chips, mac & cheese... just about anything and everything he, Rey and Ollie like to eat.

After they’re done eating, they sprawl together on the blanket. The sun is still in the sky but it’s not disturbing their rest.

He combs her hair the way she combs his, and she combs Ollie’s hair in turn as he lays between them. Sometimes she asks him to braid it, but usually she just wants him to run his fingers through it.

He also traces her features with his finger, then does the same with Ollie. He tells her that each one is his favorite, because it’s true. They’re his favorite anything and everything. He doesn’t worry if the feeling goes both ways; he knows it does.

The sound of birds chirping in the background subsides as their shallow breaths synchronize. Sometimes Ollie tucks himself against his chest, other times he wrapped his whole body around him and Rey moves in, collecting both of them in her arms with his back against her chest and Ollie’s back against her chest.

Today they faced each other as Ollie lays on his back. He loved being able to see her face, her perfect face.

And they stayed like that, undisturbed for the rest of the afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys once again for your patience and continued support. This story has become very special to me and I really have loved hearing from you all with your comments and tweets to me. I’m so glad to have done this story and that it’s been received so wonderfully. Your words of encouragent have been driving me to continue it and now that it’s finally complete, I look forward to future adventures with our beloved reylo and getting to know you guys even better. Thank you, with my full heart, for what you give me. 
> 
> Please continue reaching out to me via twitter, sharing your thoughts and feedback in the comments, sharing this story, and if you like it, leaving kudos. 
> 
> With my hear full of love and gratitude,
> 
> Cristina 
> 
> Xxx

**Author's Note:**

> I promiseeeee i already have this Fic DONE and it’ll be posted in full by the end of the week!!! I just loved this prompt so much, i had to do it ugh i hope you guys like :)) if you do please lmk via comment, kudos, DM, etc! I love hearing from everyone :)
> 
> Twitter: twitter.com/ang3lview


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